


Before the Petals Fall

by great_shot_green



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Co-workers, Companions, Daydreaming, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, K-pop References, Musicians, Realism, Slice of Life, writer relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_shot_green/pseuds/great_shot_green
Summary: You've been contracted to ghostwrite Park Chanyeol's memoir, but you've been a big fan ofhis for a few years. Out of embarrassment and professionalism, you attempt to hide your knowledge andawareness of EXO during the length of your project. How do you reconcile knowing Chanyeol asa celebrity and knowing him as a man? Will a relationship bloom in spite of contractualobligation or will your unrealistic expectations of him get in the way?
Relationships: Park Chanyeol/Reader
Kudos: 7





	1. Recording Session 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Sorry this was pulled off last month. I considered turning it into something else but I adore this story too much as it is. I've edited it a bit and it hopefully meets your expectations. Thank you for reading this and I hope you enjoy it!

“Do you mind if I record this?” You’re met with a nod and you press the recorder’s smooth button before raising it to your lips. “Today is May 15 at 14:45 for the introduction with Park Chanyeol of EXO, recording session one.” You set the handheld recorder in the middle of the large table, offering a small smile to the man facing you. You look over his shirt; a weathered logo for an older metal band sits in the center of his chest.

“You’re a fan of _Thrasher_?” You chew on the inside of your lip, not taking him for a metalhead – none of them seem like the type, though you’ve seen pictures of Monsta X’s Shownu and NCT’s Taeyong sporting the same shirt. You wonder if this confirms your friend’s theory that all idols share a closet.

Chanyeol doesn’t speak as the overcast sky shrouds the room in grey light. His gaze falls to the device between you. He leans forward, looking it over. The worn buttons no longer shine, the scuffed sides showcase a dim memory of buying the recorder new four years ago. Tension rolls across your shoulders and you gently clear your throat to mask the feeling. At the sound, he meets your eyes and nods.

“You work quickly.” He says, swiveling in his chair.

“No time like the present to get started.” You adjust, curling your fingers around the edge of the plastic chair. “Mr. Park, have you ever thought about writing a book before?”

He looks at you for a moment before drumming his fingers against the chair’s arm. “Have you ever done this before?” The depth of his voice surprises you for only a second.

“Plenty of times,” you let out a strained chuckle, focusing on not stammering. “I’ve assisted on many celebrity books, albeit non for a musician.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he laughs.

“Oh?” He hums, staring at his coarse palms as he softly rubs them together. You nod, watching his hands move rhythmically across one another.

“I’m curious to see how your musicality comes through.”

“You think it will?” Chanyeol meets your gaze.

“I wouldn’t wonder.” You squint, looking at the recorder as raindrops begin clinging to the large windows lining the wall behind him. “I can’t imagine the creative process is all that different.”

“Between writing a book and writing music?”

“Have you another opinion?”

The smile lingers in his eyes as soft ticking fills the room. You glance at your watch. 14:53.

“Don’t you think it must be? Yes, it’s all just words, but music can bring you to a memory, a different place from another time. It’s the only true way to travel. It’s quite manipulative.” Chanyeol smirks and rests his forearms on the table. “Books are fine, but music is something else.”

“I imagine there will be no problem incorporating it here, then.” You smile, folding your hands over each other, bouncing your heel silently against the carpet. The rain collects on the glass in wide streams, capturing your attention.

“What are you looking at?” Chanyeol twists, eyes roaming through the glass, searching far for something spectacular. You gesture.

“It’s really pouring out there.” Your brow furrows as the conversation acknowledges the weather in a most predictable way. You unclench your jaw, dropping your shoulders half an inch, a string of curses running through your mind admonishing your inability to relax. Chanyeol’s eyes narrow in focus while he looks at the rain as though he only noticed it now.

“If the rain shocks you, you’re in for a hell of a time,” he chuckles and swings back to face you, “it’ll drizzle for a good part of your time here.”

“Does Seoul see a lot of rain?”

He only nods and pushes the chair further from the table. He lifts himself up, bending away from you to move near the window overlooking Seoul.

“I hope you don’t hate the wet. It has a good flavor.”

“Flavor?” You scrunch your nose.

“It makes the air clean, well, as clean as it can be in the city.” He rubs the back of his neck. Chanyeol leans his shoulder against the window and casts a look at you. “What’s your favorite?”

“My favorite kind of weather?” You shift in the seat, feeling the weight of his attention. You look over his smooth features, noting grey shadows roll across his cheeks. He doesn’t move, holding his arms tight to his chest. “I quite enjoy colder weather. A dry cold, like the hour before snowfall. But of course, I travel a lot. I don’t really think on it often.”

Chanyeol moves back to the chair, sinking against the back as you finish speaking. He rests his palms on his dark jeans. He flashes a quick grin, humming in agreement with the answer.

“But you do have a preference. That’s an important thing to know about yourself.”

The door behind you opens as people file into the room. You recognize most of them immediately as they shift into the empty seats.

“Guess that’s all we get for today.” Chanyeol smiles at you as Oh Sehun slides beside him.

You grab the recorder as people fill up next to you.

“You must be the writer working on Chanyeol’s book, huh?” You turn sharply to your left and meet Kim Jongin’s smile. He looks you over in a measured gaze for a second before extending his hand.

“I am.” You grip his palm loosely and offer a small bow of your head.

“Your accent is interesting. Not from around here?” Byun Baekhyun drops a bottle of water in Chanyeol’s lap as he passes him by.

“Yah, Baekhyun, don’t be weird.” Kim Junmyeon scolds from your right. You quickly stand to excuse yourself, shuffling your belongings back into your bag. The managing team and various assistants flow into the room.

“Not quite.” You chuckle. A young woman stands near you, holding a yellow folder and motioning you to move toward her.

“You will be entered into Park Chanyeol’s regular schedule for meetings until the content for the book has been planned. Once you begin writing, you have been requested to send in all materials once a week.” She pauses as the manager sets up the head of the table for a meeting you are not privy to. “Come with me.” She gestures to the hall.

“It was nice to meet you, partner!” Chanyeol calls out to you, waving before turning his attention to Baekhyun nudging him with his phone. You smile and rush to follow the assistant into the hallway.

She hands you the folder with copies of the signed contract and non-disclosure agreement, Chanyeol’s specific schedules where you have been added, and contact information for the company liaisons you’ve been communicating with.

“My name is Sung Soohee and my phone number is on the list you have. Please let me know if you have any questions while you’re working with us.” Her smile is warm and inviting as you hold the documents in your hand. “I’ll escort you out today, but don’t worry, you’ll be given a badge by the end of the week.”

The two of you walk comfortably as you enter an elevator, making small talk on your way down to the lobby. Sending each other off with good wishes, you leave the company’s expensive building and look up to the sky.

Rain falls freely, painting the city in a glistening topcoat. The clouds swell as the forecast declares a darker storm to pass through this afternoon. Fighting off the growing chill, you tuck the folder into the bag, retrieving your phone.

You tap the passcode and scroll through the messages. Notifications spring across the top of the screen from familiar names across the world. You open the app to see a post sent from your best friend. You swipe through the pictures depicting Sehun and Chanyeol clinging to each other while dancing in the confetti on stage.

 _Why is Sehun going so hard?_ The message pulls your gaze between the two men with wide smiles. You sharply inhale as you emphasize the message. You pause over the saved folders. Between dog posts and art time-lapses, hundreds of posts organized by date regarding EXO flash across the screen.

A knot rolls through your stomach as you try to swallow the understanding of meeting Park Chanyeol. To be collaborating with the man who is the subject of most of those saved posts.

You sort through the music app before trekking back to the Airbnb in a different district across town. You switch on the music and smile as the bass chords vibrate through your earbuds. You tuck the phone away to stay protected from the heavy drizzle while softly humming the opening melody without the worry of getting wet.

***

Within the conference room, Chanyeol swivels in his seat while the manager details the comeback events planned out for June. Only giving half his attention, Chanyeol glances out the window and watches the rain beat down on the glass. He follows one drop as it races with gravity and he glimpses you on the street.

For only a moment, he watches you flow through the rain as though you don’t feel the drops. He turns back to the table and flips to the next sheet along with everyone else, tapping his fingers silently on his thigh.

***

You reach across the bathroom counter for the buzzing phone, hardly removing the toothbrush from your lips as you answer the call.

“Hi Mom.” You continue pushing the bristles across your teeth, attempting to not choke.

“Good morning, honey. How are you? Feeling settled?” Her voice is garbled through the time difference. You spit into the sink and rinse the toothbrush.

“It’s hardly morning here.” You pull the phone away, throwing it on speaker and setting it on the stained counter. “I’m okay, just getting ready for bed.”

“That flight did seem awful. Oh baby,” Mom muses, “you met the musician, right? Does he seem nice or like the chef in Sicily?” She pauses long enough for you to splash water on your cheeks.

“I did and he is. A nice, busy man. I think I’ll have my hands full with this one.” You sigh, ignoring the loud thoughts ringing behind your eyes while spreading moisturizer into your skin.

“Well, that’s good. At least you won’t have to complete police questioning like last time.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t entirely the chef’s fault.” You laugh, holding your lathered cheeks as she backtracks.

“I don’t know honey! That derailed your project quite a bit. I just hope this musician sticks to the straight and narrow.”

“A wild assumption that something like that might happen again.” You rinse the soap off, patting a towel against your forehead. “Hey, I have to prepare for the first interview tomorrow, so I’ll catch you up later, okay?”

“Okay, darling. I love you, full stop.”

“I love you, full stop.” You smile, finishing the goodbye with her as you end the call. Stretching your arms, you step from the bathroom into the bedroom, flopping down hard on the mattress.

Staring at the ceiling, you drum your fingers against your chest while sorting through the mountain of questions rolling through your mind. Sitting up, you retrieve a notebook from the bag, flipping to a clean page.

Within the half-hour when the sheet is full of questions for Chanyeol, you shut the book, rolling across the stiff sheets. You position yourself under the blankets and hiccup into dizzy dreams filled with images of Park Chanyeol.


	2. Recording Session 2

Waiting in the lobby, you stand quietly as people pass by. The receptionist hurries over, holding the warm badge in his hand. He pushes a button behind the desk to let you through and politely gestures to the elevator.

You hold the badge to the prox-reader as you step inside, pressing the fifth floor. Attempting to get out the jitters, you shake your shoulders and beg the tension to vanish from your tight muscles. The doors open and you wander into the familiar hall, catching the attention of the office administrator. You note the wall of chairs and sink into one, trying to make yourself smaller.

The tan walls are sprinkled with portraits from other group comebacks. You pull at a fraying thread from your black sweater, glancing to the potted fern to your right. People are talking beyond the front desk, but you cannot see who is talking. You check your watch as Soohee turns the corner.

“Oh, hello! I,” the surprise in her voice ripples against your nerves before she continues without too long of a pause. “You’re a little early but you can go ahead and wait in the conference room.”

“Miss Sung, will I be meeting with Mr. Park on this floor for all our interviews?”

“As his schedule fills, there may be times when you meet him in the studio or in other such places. Especially since it’s his book, I trust you’ll see all the pertinent places he’ll want to talk about.” Soohee doesn’t look at you as she opens a glass door, patiently waiting to usher you in.

You step inside, looking around the identical room to where you met Chanyeol yesterday. Soohee stays by the door.

“Please make yourself comfortable. He should be in shortly.” With that, she shuts the door. You watch her shadow disappear down the hall.

“Christ Lord,” you mutter as you drop your bag on the table. Walking around the large table, you look at the greyscale décor in the room. “Everything is far too dim here.” You sigh, returning to the bag, pulling out the interview materials.

“You’re not going to tell him you’re a fan. Definitely will not tell him you read fanfiction of him in college.” You shut your eyes and groan at the circumstance you currently preside. Cracking your knuckles, you wander to the window and hold your elbows while peering onto the street.

People flutter in their specific ways under your perched perspective. This is one of your favorite aspects of traveling – watching people live where they consider home. How people go from point A to point B without much thought, living out of ordinary routine and structure. People are similar in that regard no matter where in the world they are. You count the mass of umbrellas passing within view of the window.

“Come on, don’t be odd, now.” You sigh the plea against the window. “Figure it out. That’s all you need to do. Be natural.”

You stand there, holding yourself and looking at the grey clouds hanging low in the sky. Tiny flecks of mist cling to the glass. The storm was supposed to pass by now. You try to not pay much attention to the minutes ticking as you force yourself to ignore the unnamed footsteps in the hall. You return your gaze to the thin masses of atmospheric moisture roll above the glass city. Your neck aches from the short sleep last night and you hum, checking the watch again when the door opens.

Your hand jumps to your chest as Chanyeol walks into the room. You can only see his eyes between the blue mask and the grey hat shrouding his features. You release a tight chuckle and step away from the window.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he mumbles, removing the mask. He looks you over and pushes a chair away from the table.

“No problem at all.” You pull your shoulders straight as you both shift into seats and smile at one another. You slide the notebook closer and open it while he breaks the shuffling with a stretch.

“We have about 45 minutes today, so by all means. Ask away.” Chanyeol closes his eyes as he reaches his arms high above his head. You note the dark circles swelling under his eyelashes when he completes the stretch and glances at you. You grab the recorder and press the button.

“Today is May 16 at 15:30 for the first interview with Park Chanyeol.” You place the recorder between the two of you once again. Sifting through some loose papers in the book, you search for the list of questions. “How are you feeling today?”

“Fine, I suppose.” Chanyeol’s thin brow furrows at the simple question. He looks at the sheet full of notes and meets your gaze.

“You seem confused?”

“I thought you’d jump in, ready to ask the hard-hitting questions about my childhood or something.”

“Mr. Park, I’m not here to mine you for details like that. To write this book with you, I have to get a feel for your voice – who you are as a person.” You pause, looking at the recorder. “Between your duties as a member of EXO, being a partner of Studio NNG, having brand endorsements and acting opportunities – not to mention existing as a person – I’d like to know how you’re feeling today.” You click the pen once. He watches you put the pen to paper, patiently waiting for his response.

“Well, I guess I haven’t slept a lot this week. Comes with the territory.” Chanyeol removes the grey hat and runs his fingers through his dark hair a few times before putting it back on. You force yourself to not linger your gaze on him for too long as he sighs.

“How much time in a day do you usually take for yourself?” 

“There’s never enough time in a day to finish everything I need to do.”

“Say you did. Like what would you like to do to recharge after a long week?” You bounce my knee under the table.

“Are you asking what I do for self-care?” Chanyeol’s gaze drops to the fabric on your waist suddenly jolting from the movement. He subtly glances to his watch while you jot down a note. His tone makes you pause.

“Perhaps it’s more along the lines of how to replenish your creativity. Surely you can’t just go about like a bat out of hell for days on end without having to take a break.”

“Ah. But my creative process isn’t that extraordinary to begin with.” Chanyeol’s lips curl into a soft smile and he leans forward. You raise an eyebrow, nudging him to continue.

“No? Then what do you do when you first get a stroke of inspiration, Mr. Park?”

“In the beginning, I don’t usually work by myself. We have a team of writers who help with some of the lyrics and the overall themes of the album, then we work together to get each record done,” his eyes widen slightly, “and of course, the guys all help out during this time in different ways. Sehun is great at riffing and Jongdae can’t be stopped on harmonies.” Chanyeol taps his fingertips together in a visually erratic rhythm. “Once the outline for a song is drafted, I basically live at the studio until it’s done.” He pauses. “What’s yours?”

“What’s mine?” You finish scratching a note and look at him.

“Your creative process.”

“Oh Mr. Park, I’m not sure we should waste ti-”

“It’s not a waste.” Chanyeol shakes his head and quickly cracks his knuckles. You’re unsure if he’s even aware he did it. “If you get to know me as a person, to know my voice, hell – to write as me – then we’re a team.” He tilts his head down slightly. “We should be on the same page, don’t you think?”

You tighten your jaw, shifting in your seat, trying to swallow a smile before it flashes across your lips.

“I suppose I have to let an idea sit with me for a long time before I can start. It’s why I’m in the business of writing as others.” You reach to push loose strands of hair off your cheek. “It lets me write stories that already exist and that are important to people.”

Chanyeol smiles, leaning back into his seat, nodding slowly. He lets the silence carry through the room for a few more beats before swiveling in the chair again.

“When I’m not making music or videos or content or anything work-related,” he drops his head to the back of the chair and stares at the ceiling, “I suppose I like to cook.” He finishes.

You smile and underline the note.

“And drive. I’m always in the mood for a drive.” Chanyeol brings his head back upright and looks at you. His eyes fall to the paper as you continue to transcribe. “What made you want to be a writer?”

You don’t want to answer him as you finish the sentence, but Park Chanyeol clearly seems to be someone who wants to engage in conversation rather than just be spoken to. It’s a different space than most of the other books you have worked on.

“I always liked listening to people’s stories about their life. I thought people fascinating creatures. There wasn’t anything else worth doing but giving in to the desire to listen.” You stop writing and look him over. “What made you want to be a performer?”

He smiles softly, “I wanted to say something that people wanted to hear.”

You spend the next fifteen minutes running through other usual questions; _what are your favorite songs right now, what is your go-to comfort food, where was your favorite city to give a concert?_

Chanyeol answers all of them with ease and as the minutes tick by, he becomes more relaxed. You smile as his enthusiasm and apparent charisma are not just a front he does as a performer, rather he is a genuinely sweet man.

“Well, suffice to say being stuck in a tree with a twisted ankle wasn’t the best scenario, but at least the dog was okay.” Chanyeol laughs as you join while filling up the third page of notes. His phone buzzes and he quickly taps the screen. Chanyeol sets the phone down on the table and sits up straighter. You run down the list of questions, nearing the end of what you had prepared for today when his phone buzzes three more times.

“Sorry.” He looks at his watch before tapping the screen quickly. You stay quiet and wait. Chanyeol glances at his watch again and moves back in his seat, pushing himself away from the table. He barely notices the chair fly farther behind him as he pulls his things together.

“Oh, is our time up?” You note the time, thinking you had been paying much closer attention.

“You said you needed to get to know me to get my voice down, right?” Chanyeol adjusts his yellow sweatshirt and holds his phone and keys in one hand. You nod and turn off the recorder. “Come on.”

You shove everything back in the bag as he holds the door open. With all your power, you struggle to move fast enough without stumbling over your limbs. You leave the room and move into the hallway.

He shuts the door and leads you to the lobby. He doesn’t stop as he guides you to the elevator. You glance to him, questions knotted through your expression. Chanyeol simply smirks and nudges you into the elevator, pressing the G3 button.

“What are we doing?”

His phone buzzes again and he chuckles as he looks at it.

“You can keep this off the record if you want. Don’t want you to drain the battery on something like this.” He returns his phone to his pocket and winks to you as the door opens to a large parking garage. You follow him closely, walking between rows of expensive cars you don’t care enough to know the names of. He turns sharply and heads to the driver’s side of a black SUV. Chanyeol nods, motioning you to join him as he opens the door.

Sucking in a short breath, you thrust the door open and wiggle inside, dropping the bag by your ankles. You shut the door, careful not to slam it.

Chanyeol climbs in, his long legs folding under the steering wheel as he adjusts his clothes before turning over the ignition. He glances at you, pulling on his seatbelt. You follow along, turning away from him. He looks at the bag by your feet, snatching it before you can object.

He places it in the backseat and pulls his phone from his pocket. With a few swipes, music pours from the speakers and he drops the device in his lap. You tighten your muscles and gently push your heels into the carpeted floor of the car with the overwhelming understanding that you’re about to drive with Park Chanyeol – an event you’ve daydreamed about before but will make no effort to mention now.

Chanyeol throws the gear into reverse and peels away from the parking space. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the side mirror, snaking your hand up to smooth your hair as subtly as possible. After a few left turns, the car lurches onto the busy street.

Six songs pass before either of you say anything. He sings in disjointed phrases, most often the instrumentals as he directs you through the city. In his shuffled playlist, Stevie Nicks' vocals float through the car. You smile, allowing yourself to hum quietly along with a guitar’s melody.

“So, Fleetwood Mac is what got you, huh?” Chanyeol moves one hand to his phone and glances between the screen and the road.

“Don’t mind them. But I’m surprised you listen to them.”

“Why so?”

“You don’t seem like you’d get down to Stevie Nicks.” You chuckle, heat rushing across your cheeks.

“I _get down_ to a lot of things,” Chanyeol smirks as you continue to hum the melody. Nothing more is said as Chanyeol transitions onto the freeway. The city recedes further away as the rain stops falling. Your curiosity gets the better of you.

“Where are we going?”

Chanyeol switches lanes to the far left and sinks against the headrest, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. You begin to wonder if the action is a tick of some kind. Your gaze rakes over his profile, finally allowing yourself to truly look at him.

His thin brows tapering in straight lines toward his hairline. His almond-colored eyes focusing on the road and yet not observing the details fluttering by. His small lips pop with quick notes of each song but often stay pressed together in soft hums. You face forward again, swallowing the heat pooling in your cheeks.

“I have a commitment and thought you might want to join me.” Chanyeol bobs his head in rhythm with Harry Styles. “For research.”A quiet ringtone you don’t recognize cuts off any further questions as Chanyeol lifts his phone to his ear.

“Yeah, almost there.” He slightly adjusts his legs as he nods. “No, tell Kyungsoo to wait! I’m not budging on that.” He huffs to the caller and mumbles something you don’t pick up. You watch the pointed trees whip by, bouncing your gaze between the tops.

“Just make sure he doesn’t start until we get there. I don’t want a repeat of last month.” He listens before shuffling out a goodbye and ending the call. He drops the phone back in his lap and turns up the dashboard volume slightly.

“Kyungsoo?” You manage to keep your voice level.

“I hope you don’t mind, but yeah. We’re meeting up with the guys.”

“EXO? This wasn’t in my schedule.” Your nerves echo behind your cheeks as you fidget with the hem of your knitted sleeve. Chanyeol shrugs.

“We do family dinners once a month where we make sure to all get together outside of work.” He shoots a grin at you. “Thought you’d want to meet everyone.”

The drive ceases after a while longer as the car turns off the main road, heading west toward the water. You watch the clouds dissipate across the sky as the city turns residential. The saltwater laps the edge of the road as Chanyeol pulls into a long driveway shrouded with trees and fences. You examine the beige house as we pull up behind a silver car.

“Let’s go in.” He shuts off the ignition and turns toward you before opening his door.

“Whose house is this?” You reach in the backseat to grab your phone from the bag.

“Minseok-hyung’s.”


	3. Recording Session 3

Through the open door, Minseok’s eyes widen as you peek at him past Chanyeol’s shoulder. He ushers you both in, shutting the door behind you. Chanyeol bounces through the house as though he lives here.

“Thank you for allowing me to join you all this afternoon.” You shuffle out a shaky bow and slip off your shoes. Minseok smiles and touches your shoulder gently.

“The pleasure is mine.” He calmly moves forward, guiding you through his home. “I’m Kim Minseok, but please, no need for formality.”

He leads you past the living room to the right and you curve into the bustling kitchen. Large bay windows face the sea. Seagulls patter against the damp sands only a few meters from the back porch. The sun glitters across the marble countertops, filling the room with a warm glow.

Laughs and shrieks greet you as you enter the room. Minseok gives you a small smile and slips away to help Kyungsoo at a counter against the far wall. You look at the faces around you, acutely aware of who is here. Junmyeon is closest to you and he smiles brightly. Setting down his beer bottle, he moves to bow.

“Nice to see you again, I was unable to introduce myself properly.” He begins, offering his hand. You accept it and return the polite gesture. “I’m Kim Junmyeon, leader of EXO, which really means I’m paid to wrangle these men when they get out of line.” He winks and gives your palm a slight squeeze.

“I’m sure they appreciate your wisdom in that area.” You chuckle, begging your senses to calm down.

“Really, it’s more that we have to pull him up out of his shell. Isn’t that right, Jongdae-Hyung?” Sehun glides around the kitchen, squeezing himself between Junmyeon and a woman next to him. He hooks his arm around the leader’s shoulder.

“Maybe, but I think you’re all overwhelming most of the time.” Jongdae laughs and returns his attention to the woman giggling on his left. Chanyeol and Baekhyun lean against the counter, focusing in a tight discussion over Kyungsoo and Minseok’s task.

The sliding door opens and Jongin steps inside, pressing a towel to his damp hair.

“Hyung, you gotta install a better shower outside.” He pats his face dry. “The pressure is terrible.”

“Jongin, I swear if you drip on my floors, I’m gonna make you lick it up.” Minseok swats at him from across the room.

Jongin glances down and sees the puddle forming. With wide eyes, he quickly swipes his towel across the floor and bounces past you to head upstairs.

“He was out swimming even though it was raining earlier?” You furrow your brow and Sehun laughs at your question.

“Jongin would live in the water if he could. There’s not a lot that would hold him back.”

The conversations resume and you move next to the center island. Atop the glossy marble, trays of food are displayed. Your gaze switches between the cuts of raw beef and a spread of fruit as a beer is slipped in front of you. You glance to Yixing who smiles and pulls his hand away from the sweating glass.

“If you don’t just grab what you want, you’ll be hard-pressed to find anything left.” He winks and reaches toward the platter, popping a grape in his mouth. You smile and lift the bottle’s lip to your mouth, taking a swig of the grainy alcohol. Chanyeol’s sharp laugh cuts through the air and he pushes into Baekhyun.

“I’m just curious is all!” Baekhyun vocalizes as his eyes meet yours. “How did SM manage to find you?” he asks over the varying conversations. Everyone other than Kyungsoo looks at you. Your mind falters with the Korean you’ve been studying for a few years as you roll the bottle between your palms.

“I suppose I was simply lucky.” You continue to hold Baekhyun’s gaze. “I saw the advertisement and applied. I didn’t know it would be for Mr. Park, but I have experience ghostwriting other celebrity books.”

Junmyeon nods next to you. Sehun taps his phone a few times, hardly paying attention. Chanyeol’s expression is loose, his mouth frozen in a polite upturn as he sips a beer.

“And you just came to Korea on that whim?” Baekhyun’s eyes narrow. “You’ve never heard of EXO?” Before you can respond, Jongdae yells.

“Yah, Baekhyun! Why are you grilling her like a criminal suspect?” He slaps his hand on the counter and Minseok turns around.

“Stop the ruckus and let’s head outside. We need to start the bracket!” He claps and begins shooing everyone toward the door. He pushes on Chanyeol’s shoulder, causing the taller man to jolt forward. Chanyeol turns away from you, pressing his palms against Baekhyun’s back with small pats.

Junmyeon offers his hand to the woman next to him and smiles at you. She interlocks her fingers with his and leads him from the kitchen. Kyungsoo fills his arms with platters of food and pauses, looking at a fourth plate of sliced vegetables. His brow furrows as he scans the emptying room.

“Can I help?” You stand near him, reaching for the plate. He nods as a wave of relief flashes behind his round glasses. You follow him through the door and see wooden stakes with colored ropes stuck in the sand.

Kyungsoo turns sharply to the left, away from the men gathered on the beach. You stay close to him, setting the plate down on a table next to a grill. He mutters a quiet breath of gratitude as Junmyeon calls everyone’s attention.

“Okay, the same rules apply tonight as they do every time. Looking at you, Baekhyun.” Snickers scatter over the sand as Baekhyun scoffs in an exaggerated sigh. “But seriously. The first pair to get the most flags wins the pot.”

Minseok wanders between each person and hands them a piece of paper and a pen. He reaches you, offering a sheet. You take it, gazing at the filled-in bracket lines. He continues to Kyungsoo, placing one beside him.

“Everyone place your bets.”

You scan the page, noting the pairings. Kyungsoo nudges you.

“I wouldn’t put any on Chanyeol and Baekhyun if I were you.” He smirks.

“They aren’t any good?”

“No, they’re fine, but Yixing and Jongin practice in their spare time more than anyone else.” Kyungsoo leans into you, dropping his tone lower.

“Is that who you’re rooting for?” You squint, gazing at the man’s unreadable expression.

“I’m putting my money on the pair that will win.” He smirks. “If you pick right, you get to split the winnings.” You share a small chuckle as he turns away from you, scrawling numbers on the sheet. You return your attention to the page.

“You’ll bet on me, right?” Chanyeol steps up on the deck, stopping by your side.

“Is it required in my contract, Mr. Park? I was interested in some other pairs.” You tap your fingers against the thin sheet. Chanyeol’s smile falters for a moment as he whips his head away from you.

“Yah Kyungsoo! What did you tell her?” He barrels over to the smaller man.

You laugh as you scribble a small amount next to Yixing and Jongin’s line. Feigning innocence in knowing of these men, you pretend to mull around the next choices.

The woman close to Junmyeon made her way to you, her sheet clutched tightly in her hand.

“Hi, I’m Bora, Junmyeon’s girlfriend.” Her smile is bright. You exchange introductions and look back to your page. “Do you need some help in deciding who to pick?”

“Ah, that’d be nice. I’m not sure which teams are normally successful.”

“If you pick me, I promise you’ll get your money back!” Chanyeol calls over his shoulder as he writes figures on his page, steading his pen against Kyungsoo’s back.

“Don’t mind him. He’s always overly confident during this.” Bora giggles. “You don’t have to only get the winners right. We go through the line and whoever has the closest bracket also gets some money.”

“Wow, there’s a lot on the line here then.” You chuckle.

“They’re highly competitive.” She remarks with a soft light across her cheeks.

The two of you quickly scan through the list and come up with the following bets.

Yixing – Jongin: ₩30,000 *approx. values ($26, €22)

Chanyeol – Baekhyun: ₩24,000 *($20, €18)

Minseok – Jongdae: ₩18,000 *($15, €13)

Junmyeon – Sehun: ₩12,000 *($10, €9)

“What about Kyungsoo’s partner?”

“Since he joined the military, he doesn’t like to exert himself more than necessary.” Bora fills in her own board, closely matching yours. “And he really doesn’t like to run in sand.”

“Please turn in your sheets to Soo and let’s get the party rolling.” Junmyeon’s voice carries across the beach.

The first two pairs, Chanyeol and Baekhyun against Junmyeon and Sehun, step up to the first rope line. The men peel off their extra layers, leaving themselves in shorts and t-shirts. Everyone else gathers on the patio or sits in the sand in front of it. Kyungsoo pulls a whistle from his pocket and counts to three before the four men sprint toward the water.

You watch in delight as the two teams dive through the sand, frantically grabbing a plastic flag attached to a ball near the water’s edge about eight meters away. Junmyeon undercuts Baekhyun and rolls away with the ball.

He throws it to Sehun as Chanyeol intercepts. A mix of loud cheers and groans rumble around you as Junmyeon chases the lanky man to the outer line of the ropes before he skids through the wet sand. Bora squeaks near you, covering her eyes as Junmyeon falls.

Taking the opportunity, Chanyeol passes the ball to Baekhyun, who slides out from around Sehun and runs back toward the house.

Your eyes widen as you realize this puts your bracket in good standing. Feeling the rush of excitement buzzing around the group, you join in cheering for Baekhyun.

Sehun barely scrapes Baekhyun’s shirt with his fingertips before the elder crosses the line, earning the first slot in the next round.

The group erupts in praise for all four of the members, clapping and patting one another on the back. Bora turns to Kyungsoo and looks over the bracket pages, the two of them filling out each page for everyone.

In the commotion and set up for the next round, Jongin and Yixing versus Minseok and Jongdae, you look at the warm group surrounding you. Clasping your hands behind your back, you slip away into the house to head for the front door.

Chanyeol looks over the patio for you and watches you retreat into the house. He quickly follows suit, rumbling behind you before you reach the front door.

“What are you doing?”

“You invited me for research, so I wanted to grab my notebook to take notes.” You bend down to slide on your shoes. He lunges forward and grabs your wrist, pulling you to look at him. You can see damp spots on his white shirt while he catches his breath. You force yourself to meet his gaze.

“I didn’t mean it literally. We don’t have to be working right now.” Sweat clings wisps of his bangs to his forehead as he exhales with force. His wide eyes peer into yours. “I invited you here to get to know you. For you to enjoy yourself.” He doesn’t wait for a response, and he doesn’t drop your hand.

Turning on his heel, Chanyeol pulls you from the foyer back to the beach. Just before you reach the glass door, he lets go of your wrist. He wanders to the far side of the kitchen and grabs two beers, opening them in swift motions. He passes you one and walks back out onto the patio, jumping into the sand and settling next to Baekhyun.

Jongdae passes the ball to Minseok and the commotion rises again as Jongin chases the eldest member through the fading sunlight. As Minseok crosses the finish line, you lean against the wall, sipping your beer and noting various rules Bora and Kyungsoo mention to you. The rounds quickly pass as each pair plays against one another. You don’t pay the rolling minutes much mind – your hand still burning where Chanyeol held it.

***

By the end of the game, everyone gathers in around a small fire pit dug in the sand with plates of food. A chill wind rushes off the sea and brushes your reddened cheeks, buzzing with booze.

“Fourth place, Minseok and Jongdae.”

Loud murmurs sprinkle the air as everyone eats.

“We’ll get them next month, darling.” Minseok reaches across Jongdae’s wife and pats his brother on the knee.

“I’m sure, as long as Baekhyun doesn’t cheat anymore.” He sticks his tongue out as laughter rumbles across the group.

“I never cheat, old man.” Baekhyun scoffs.

“You’re older than me!” Jongdae counters with a laugh. The group spirals into booze filled fits, laughing to the point of tears.

“Third, Junmyeon and Sehun.” Kyungsoo continues, nibbling on a small chunk of grilled sweet potato. “Second, Chanyeol and Baekhyun.”

“See! If I were to cheat, I’d make sure to win.” Baekhyun huffs, resting his head against Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol shakes and bounces his legs as he laughs. Shadows from the fire dance up his tan arms as he throws his head back. Bora nudges your knee as she eats her steak, gesturing to Kyungsoo.

“First, once again, Jongin and Yixing.” Kyungsoo winks at you while he reads off the sheet. “You’re the person who got the closest to this board.” He points to you and the group’s laughter rises again.

“Dream team baby.” Yixing claps Jongin’s shoulder.

“Maybe we ought to switch up the pairs next time.” Junmyeon mutters, crossing his legs while the younger members cry out.

“Forget about Baekhyun-hyung – maybe she cheated! How did she figure it out?” Sehun quips from across the circle.

“Yeah, Kyungsoo and Bora helped her. She didn’t make the choices herself.” Baekhyun slurs his words, leaning over to miss high-fiving Sehun.

“In any case, thank you for believing in me and Xing.” Jongin smiles on your left, leaning closer toward the fire. His alcohol-glazed eyes flutter closed as you laugh. The fire pops and crackles, spitting plumes of lit ashes toward the dark navy sky.

“Are you enjoying yourself so far? Working with Chanyeol can really be an exciting time.” Junmyeon asks as a lull spreads over the conversation.

“He’s been more than polite with my prying questions.” You make every effort to focus on not slurring. Silently, you curse yourself for only eating a granola bar on your lunch break today and allowing yourself to drink. The heat from the fire blisters against your shins and cheeks.

“Ah, but he loves talking about himself. That’s why the eagles decided he would be the one to publish a memoir.” Baekhyun giggles while rubbing his cheeks.

“She’s being humble. She’s doing a swell job.” Chanyeol shifts under Baekhyun’s weight. Your cheeks burn with the praise.

“Well, if you need to vet his stories and make sure he’s telling the truth, you can ask any one of us and we’ll tell you.” Jongdae holds his wife’s hand, softly turning it over between his palms and pressing a quick chaste kiss to her fingers.

“Oh, stop pestering them. They’re fine.” Kyungsoo calls out.

Turning to look at everyone around the fire, your eyes meet Chanyeol’s across the way. He sips a bottle of soda while the conversation transforms to debates on Marvel movies, his gaze doesn’t leave you.

***

You set emptied bottles on the counter, filing items back into the house with everyone else. Jongin holds up Baekhyun while Sehun clings to Chanyeol’s shoulders.

“Put them upstairs to sleep it off.” Minseok doesn’t look up, placing dishes in the sink. Chanyeol and Jongin drag the drunk men deeper into the house as Bora takes your hand.

“It was great to spend time with you today! Are you working every day with Chanyeol?” She looks over your warm cheeks and measures your response. You shake your head, smiling loosely at her. “Then we’ll have to get together again.” Bora decides promptly, squeezing your palm.

Junmyeon slides behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing his nose into her neck. She smirks and sways within his grasp. “I’ll get your number from Chanyeol!” She manages to say as Junmyeon whispers something that inspires an eruption of giggles from the two of them. “Let’s go watch a movie.” You hear her suggest to Junmyeon and Yixing.

“They’re tucked in, hyung.” Chanyeol’s voice calls out behind you. “Jongin is staying over too.” You turn to see him tuck his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks, Yeol. I don’t know why I’m still shocked at this point, but I guess that’s why I keep the spare bedrooms clean.” Minseok sighs and Kyungsoo helps clear the trash off the counter.

“You ready?” Chanyeol’s voice is considerably closer and you bump into his arm as you turn. His hand moves to the small of your back as you barely wobble. You mutter an inaudible curse you hope he cannot understand.

“If you are.” You manage a smile.

“We’re heading out now.” Chanyeol doesn’t move his hand from your back.

“Wait, we have to disperse the winnings.” Kyungsoo pulls out his phone and types some figures into the calculator. After a moment, a notification vibrates your phone in your back pocket.

You slide your phone in your palm and read the message.

 _A new balance of_ _₩540,000 *(_ $477, €408) _has been deposited into account ending in *86._

“Holy shit.” You mutter, squinting at the screen before looking up at Chanyeol. “How much did you all bet?” Your question is met with smirks but Chanyeol doesn’t respond. He starts to turn you toward the door, but you stop.

Removing yourself from his side, you march to Minseok and tap him on the shoulder. He jumps and looks at you, curiosity bleeding through his gaze.

“Thank you for your hospitality and generosity, Kim Minseok. I hope to see you again in the future.” You fumble over some of the words, earning a crooked smile from the man.

“Again, the pleasure was all mine. Please come by again soon.” He places a hand on your shoulder and gives it a tight squeeze.

“Lovely to meet you all.” You step back and bow to the room in general, receiving quiet murmurs in response. Chanyeol waits, exchanging glances with Junmyeon and Jongdae that you don’t witness.

Spinning around a bit too fast, you accidentally launch yourself forward, stumbling into Chanyeol’s hands. He holds your arms, pulling you upright before you fall. Embarrassment floods your veins as you grip his forearms and stand straight. Concern washes over his face and he leans closer to you.

“Are you okay?” He whispers. You nod sloppily and start to move away from him toward the door. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks as he waves to his members.

“I’ll text you later. Good night guys.” Chanyeol is still holding your elbow as he trails behind you.

“Get home safe.” Bora sings to you and a string of goodbyes follows. The discussion over what movie to put in begins.

No one can see you nod as tears begin burning streams in your skin, clouding your vision. You struggle to untie your shoes. Chanyeol bends down and quickly slips his sneakers on and leans over you.

He snatches your shoes from your hands and grips your palm as he pulls you out of the house. You drag the back of your hand across your cheek and sniffle, staring at your black socks against the concrete.

Chanyeol doesn’t say anything, leading you to the passenger side of his car. He opens the door, motioning for you to sit on the seat. You continue to avoid his gaze as you follow his unspoken instruction. With your legs dangling outside of the car, he kneels on the ground and begins unlacing your double knots. You stutter a sharp inhale as you command yourself to stop crying in front of the man.

“Why are you crying?” Chanyeol doesn’t look at you as his long fingers pull the laces loose.

You exhale with a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” He holds your ankle and guides your foot into your shoe, using his thigh to steady the movement. Allowing the laces to hang, he begins untying the other one.

“Are you okay?”

You bite your lower lip and rub the moisture into your skin, wiping the excess on your palms against your thighs.

“I’m embarrassed.” You whisper, feeling your muscles tingle as the alcohol continues to float through your body. He hums and puts your other shoe on. “Thank you.” You sniffle again. Working swiftly, he pulls the laces into sufficient knots and looks up at you.

Your cheeks are splotched with irritated heat. Chanyeol gently pats your calf twice before standing. You swing your legs into the car as he shuts the door. He glances back at the house for a moment before moving to the backseat. You hear him rustling with a plastic bag before he closes the door and jogs to the driver’s side.

He climbs in, holding two water bottles in one hand. He maneuvers around himself and passes you one. You take it, letting it rest against your thigh while you press your fingers into your temple.

Chanyeol cracks his open and takes a large swig, gulping the water with a loud sigh. Dropping the bottle in his lap, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out your handheld recorder. He examines it and presses it on.

“Forgive me that I don’t remember how you start this.” He turns the plastic over in his hand. “You know, I can drink a whole bottle of water in three seconds.” He chuckles to himself. “It hurts though so I don’t do it often.” He leans against the headrest and looks over at you. You shut your eyes and the urge to weep almost overtakes you.

“This is really unprofessional, isn’t it?” You croak, running your thumb over the indents of the bottle.

“Please,” Chanyeol reaches over the center console and places his hand over yours. You jump at the contact and rapidly blink away your blurred vision. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” His thumb gently glides across your skin.

“I just don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” He bursts out a laugh, shaking his head steadily. “You do realize that most of my embarrassing moments are plastered on the internet, right? You think I’ve never made a real jackass out of myself?” Chanyeol continues to giggle as he looks at your recorder. “I’ve been in much worse shape, I promise.”

“Mr. Park, I just don’t want you to have to go out of your way for me. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.” You look up at Minseok’s house as some lights begin turning off.

“You don’t have to refer to me so formally.” He pulls the bottle from your grip to open it. “And you didn’t make a scene. They’re all drunk too – you saw Sehun struggle up the stairs.” He smiles as he passes the opened container back to you. You lift the bottle to your lips and take a short sip, inviting the cool liquid to soothe your throat.

“It’s the date and time.” You stammer through your unsteady breaths after a silent moment. “The type of interview and the session number.”

Chanyeol lets out a soft sigh and he holds the recorder closer to his mouth.

“Today is May 17 at 01:58 in the morning for the first perfectly normal blunder between us,” he pauses and gently squeezes your hand once more, “recording session 3.”


	4. Recording Session 4

“Not what you expected?”

You look around the room, lit by covered pale lights and neon yellow signs of palm trees. A keyboard is perched on a sliding surface, allowing it to be pushed under a computer desk. Four monitors display various programs. Guitars line one wall, hanging in different layers. Near the desk, a fridge hums quietly. Chanyeol settles in his leather chair, glancing at the screens. He moves the mouse and closes a dialogue box that pops up.

“It’s surprisingly unremarkable?” You lean against the soft foam padding secured to the door.

“Meaning you’re unimpressed,” Chanyeol smirks as he types, his back to you.

“I just thought studios were bigger. A big glass window separating the mixer and the singer.” You tap your pen against your chin, observing the room.

“We have those too – usually for the first recording – then I fix everything up here.” He gestures amicably and turns to you. “I hope it’s fine that we talk here. I don’t have a lot of time this week to meet up anywhere else.”

You nod as he pulls another chair up to the desk. He pats it and you sit down. You recover your recorder.

“Today is May 20 at 20:15 for the studio interview with Park Chanyeol, recording session four.”

He motions for the recorder. You pass it and he looks it over before setting it on the table.

“What do you like about this space?”

Chanyeol clasps his fingers, resting his hands against his abdomen. He releases a sigh. “I can’t focus anywhere else.” You allow a silent beat for him to continue. “I’m not sure. With all the deadlines and the pressure to create something good, I just want to get the projects done.” He watches you scratch ink into the paper. “It’s nice to have space.”

“Are you often here by yourself?” You set down your pen. He nods, bouncing his leg as he looks at you. “Do you enjoying being alone?”

Chanyeol sucks a short breath between his closed teeth, running his palm against his cheek. “Not really.” He reaches into his pocket and glances at his phone. You force your gaze to the sheet, looking over a list of questions that seem to all say the same thing.

“Did you have anything specific you wanted to show me here?”

Chanyeol continues looking at his phone for a moment before shaking his head up at you. “Sorry, what was that?” he mumbles.

“Did you want to talk about anything regarding the studio?” You try again, dropping your shoulders and popping your knuckles subtly. He sighs, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his palms against his eyes.

“I uh, I think-” his muffled voice is laced with thick exhaustion. You move to the edge of the seat.

“Chanyeol, we don’t have to do this right now if you don’t want to.” You speak softly, reaching for the recorder in front of his monitors.

“No, it’s not that. I just,” he smacks his hands against his thighs, patting them in complex rhythm as he throws himself back against the chair. “I’m just tired.”

“We can stop. This isn’t the best time to ask you for long stories about your life.” You hum, grabbing to switch the recorder off.

“I’m sorry you were called all the way out here.” Chanyeol slides against the desk, resting one hand on the keyboard and rubbing the other over his eyes.

“We’ll continue later. No problem.” You smile at his back and creep away to the door, attempting to quietly leave without bothering him.

“Ugh,” he groans, dropping his forehead against the tabletop. You twist at the sound.

“Are you feeling alright?” Worry tenses your jaw and you walk over to him, hovering your palm over his shoulder, afraid to touch him. “Chanyeol?” He doesn’t stir and continues to whimper into his hand. You see beads of sweat forming on his hairline and he begins rocking slowly. “Can I call someone?” You place your hand on his shoulder and he winces under your touch. You quickly draw your hand back and struggle to pull out your phone.

“Junmyeon,” Chanyeol whispers through a groan as he holds his head. Without looking, he unlocks his phone and pushes it to you. Despite your shaking fingers, you manage to find Junmyeon’s contact and within moments, his voice greets you.

“What’s up Yeol? I thought you were still at the studio.” Junmyeon says through the static.

“Suho! It’s Chanyeol. He’s hurt or sick or something. He said to call you.” Your voice betrays you, panic seeping through at an alarming rate. Chanyeol sucks in a quick gasp and curls further into himself.

“Are you at the studio?” The leader’s voice is clear and urgent.

You usher out a quick response as Junmyeon tells you to stay put and get something to cool him down with. You end the call and look around the room. Not seeing any materials and unwilling to leave Chanyeol alone, you dump your bag out on the chair you pushed away in your panic.

Finding a half-full water bottle, you reach over Chanyeol and grab tissues on a high shelf. You twist the top and spray the cool water onto the thin material, careful to avoid spilling too much water in the expensive room. Chanyeol slowly pushes himself from his desk and leans far over his knees, his arms dangling beside his legs.

You kneel in front of him, placing one wet tissue to the back of his neck and pressing it firmly against his skin. He reacts to the sudden wetness and glances up at you. His eyes flutter as tears form. A knot boils in your stomach and you reach to touch his face. Chanyeol’s forehead burns under your fingertips.

“It’s gonna be okay. He’s coming.” Your voice quivers as you press another tissue to his forehead, dabbing it slowly around his face. Removing your hand from the back of his neck, you run your fingers through his hair. He shuts his eyes, panting and sinking deeper into your touch.

You continue pressing the wet tissues across his skin as the color slowly returns to him while he murmurs nonsense, trying to control his breathing. You brush Chanyeol’s bangs off his face. The two of you stay like this, waiting for Junmyeon to arrive.

Within ten minutes, Junmyeon bursts through the door to hear Chanyeol’s groans.

“What was he doing when it happened?” The leader moves to your side, gently moving Chanyeol to lean back.

“He wasn’t really responding during our conversation. He uh, h-he said he was tired?” you stammer, pressing your hand against your stomach as you move back, giving the two men space.

“Hey Yeol, come on, open your eyes.” Junmyeon taps Chanyeol’s cheek, looking deep into the man’s glazed glance.

“Is he okay?” you squeak.

“He’ll be fine. We need to get him home.” He pulls Chanyeol up, slinging him up around by the shoulders.

“Hyung,” Chanyeol moans, covering his eyes. Junmyeon motions for you to grab Chanyeol’s phone and jacket. You clamor behind the shuffling men, holding Chanyeol’s belongings in your tight grip.

“Open the door,” Junmyeon instructs, pulling the staggering man along. You slip in front of them, opening doors and assisting Junmyeon as the three of you head to his car. You maneuver through the small building and head out to the street. Pedestrians glance at the three of you but no one lingers their attention on you for long. Junmyeon settles Chanyeol against your arm – you falter for a moment under his weight as Junmyeon opens the back door.

“Get in and slide over.”

You pass Chanyeol over and dive into the car quickly. You wiggle across the crisp leather seats as Junmyeon lowers the aching man into the car next to you. Chanyeol crawls on the seat, dropping his head against your thigh. Junmyeon ensures Chanyeol’s legs fold inside before he shuts the door, rushing to the driver’s seat.

“Just hold him steady. We’ll be there quick.” He throws over the ignition and peels into the low traffic, steadily increasing the car’s speed.

Chanyeol winces and pulls his hand up to his face before resting his palm against your knee. Through your jeans, you can feel his clammy skin. You drag your fingers through his hair and gently wipe the sweat droplets from his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, slowly turning his head to look up at you.

“Everything’s fine, buddy,” Junmyeon says from the front seat, shifting the car into a higher gear. The car lurches for a moment and growls louder as you thunder down the road.

“I reckon we’re even with our apologies at this point, Mr. Park.” You murmur, continuing to comb his hair. Chanyeol blinks slowly, the corner of his mouth curling up a fraction as he allows his head to roll forward, resting his cheek on your thigh.

Junmyeon takes two lefts and right before pulling into an underground parking garage. He rolls through the security and parks close to a locked automatic door. He throws his door open, rushing to the backseat. His continual urgency spikes anxiety across your muscles.

He pulls Chanyeol off you, wrestling to stand him up. Junmyeon fishes a card out of his pocket and flashes it to the guard. The door slides open. You follow, holding the items and supporting Chanyeol’s other side. His arm falls around your shoulder as Junmyeon navigates you up into the building.

Shuffling through the quiet lobby, the three of you climb into the elevator, and Junmyeon presses a floor. Your gaze shifts between them as Junmyeon pats Chanyeol’s shoulder. The doors open again, revealing a hallway washed with warm, golden light.

The men turn to the right, walking a few paces down the hall and pausing in front of a nondescript white door. Junmyeon raises his brows at you, and you search the dark green coat for keys. Finding them, you pass them off and he thrusts one into the lock.

He pulls Chanyeol through the doorway into a dark room. You trail behind them, closing the door. You wander forward, dropping his belongings on a counter separating the kitchen from the living room.

“Can you get him water?” Junmyeon’s voice floats after you from around the corner. You move quickly, opening cupboards with wild abandon as you search for a glass. Thrusting one open and finding the cups, you pull a glass down and shuffle to the sink, filling it a little more than halfway. In the dim light, you peek down the hallway, not seeing any light.

“Junmyeon?” You gently touch one of the walls, feeling the smooth paint under your fingertips as you step through the bleeding darkness.

“In here.”

You make your way to the end of the hall to an open door. Inside the room, you can barely make out a single silhouette. Fabric rustles in the dark and springs grind as Junmyeon helps Chanyeol to bed. You cautiously step forward, holding the glass of water tightly in your hand.

“I have water.” You extend your arm, feeling for Junmyeon’s shoulder.

“Will you stay with him a second? I’ll be right back.” Junmyeon’s voice lowers as he gently pulls your arm. He steps around you and slips from the room, trekking down the hall.

As your eyes adjust, you make out Chanyeol’s figure but cannot distinguish between his features. You move closer and accidentally step on a pile of clothing on the floor.

“The water.” Chanyeol grunts as he slips under his comforter.

You move beside the bed, the frame touching your knees. Reaching your arm out, your palm connects with Chanyeol’s bare chest. You snatch your hand away and move up to his chin, barely holding it with your fingertips. You tilt his head forward as his lips touch the glass, sipping the water. He nudges it away and drops his head against the mound of pillows under him.

A light down the hallway illuminates the room slightly. You stand over him, holding the glass close to his face. Chanyeol’s breathing begins to settle as he looks at you. By your feet, you find his crumpled shirt and kicked-off shoes.

His face, neck, and chest glisten with sweat as he attempts to take deeper breaths. He lifts his right hand and motions for the water. You provide the cup to him once more as he pulls the liquid down. You pull the glass away and move to set it down on the nightstand. Chanyeol touches your hand and pulls it over his cheek, pressing your palm to his warm skin.

“It’s cool,” he breathes, “feels nice.” His eyes close and you stay in the uncomfortable, hunched position while holding his face.

Junmyeon enters the room again, holding a bottle of pills and a wet washcloth. His eyes trail over the two of you before nudging your shoulder. You force your hand from Chanyeol’s grasp and slide out of the way. Junmyeon sits on the edge of the bed, easing the medicine between Chanyeol’s teeth and pressing the washcloth to his forehead.

“You should go wait out in the living room for now.” He throws a glance your way. Swallowing a reply, you back out and scurry down the hall. You pass the lit bathroom and continue into the open floor of the front room.

A dark, plush couch is pushed under picture frames depicting Chanyeol’s family at various points in his life, facing a large TV secured on the opposite wall. A sliding door to your right opens to a small balcony. Moonlight filters through the thick plastic shades covering the glass.

On your left, bar stools line along the counter – mail scattered across the smooth granite top. Dishes are piled on a drying rack in the corner of the kitchen by the sink. You float around the room, taking in the various décor Chanyeol has displayed. You look over his fridge, viewing notes printed from his sister, as well as pictures of Toben and various EXO members.

Releasing a strained exhale, you move away from the kitchen and sit on the couch, resting your head in your hands.

Junmyeon enters the room, holding the empty glass. He sets it on the counter and sighs, running his hand through his hair. His eyes meet yours and he offers a weak smile.

“Thanks for helping.”

“Of course.”

He moves to sit beside you, pulling out his phone and quickly tapping the screen.

“It’s because of the comeback,” Junmyeon speaks without lifting his gaze from his phone. “Chanyeol always has a heavy load during comeback season and he’s pretty awful at taking care of himself.”

You watch the leader adjust his position and rest his elbows on his knees.

“He gets so exhausted and worked up, over-exerting himself to the point of sickness.” He glances at you.

“This has happened before?”

“It’s a bit of dehydration and stress. He’ll be fine.” Junmyeon pats your knee. “It’s been a recurring thing since before we debuted.”

You slowly nod, imagining a teenage Chanyeol shaking and gasping for breath while his members console him. You shove the image from your mind and stare at your hands.

“He’s been doing better since he got a prescription to help ease the symptoms, but I guess he left them behind this week.” Junmyeon gently coughs. “I’m sorry you saw him like that.”

Silence spreads throughout the room and you peek into the depth of the hallway.

“Is he sleeping?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure he rests for the next day or so.” Junmyeon cracks a smile. “He won’t let me keep him out of the studio for any longer than that.”

“I suppose I’ll be heading out, now that he’s okay.” You move to stand, Junmyeon following suit.

“I’ll tell him to text you when he’s feeling better and you can have a real meeting,” he pauses, “away from the studio, I assure you.”

“I appreciate it, Kim Junmyeon.” You wrap your arms around yourself and smile, “thank you.” Your muscles tighten as you recall calling him Suho over the phone, in front of Chanyeol. Your eyes widen as you look away from him. Junmyeon notices your expression darken with unease and he softly smiles, rubbing his palms together.

“He’ll be sleeping for a while. I’ll take you home, okay? I’m just gonna give him another glass of water.” Junmyeon moves to fill the cup and retreats into the hallway.

You notice some scraps of paper and pen on the counter. Snatching the pen, you write a brief note on the sheet and leave it as Junmyeon comes back into the room, gesturing you toward the door.

He locks the apartment behind him and you wander down the hallway, back toward the elevator.

***

In the morning, Chanyeol groans against his sheets, stretching his tight muscles, and struggles out of bed. He drags himself to the kitchen to gulp chilled water from the sink. With drops dripping off his chin, he sees a piece of paper placed on the edge of the counter.

Exhaling deeply, he slurps water from his cupped palm and pulls the paper closer, his eyes flicking over the shaky Hangul.

_I hope you’re feeling better and take the day to rest. Let me know when you’re ready to meet up again – I’m thinking of having a different approach to our interviews. Enjoy your well-deserved day off!_

Chanyeol smiles as he reads the note a few more times as he fills his glass and shuffles back to bed, keeping the note where you left it.


	5. Recording Session 5

Drumming your fingertips against your keyboard, you bite your lip. After three weeks of small interactions and a few interviews, the need to start writing the heftier chapters grows – Soohee expects your next email by noon tomorrow.

Tossing your head back, you groan away from the blank computer screen. You hear the bustle of cars driving through the city beyond your shut window. You turn your wrist and inspect your watch. 22:18.

“Maybe music?” You mutter, pulling Spotify up and scrolling through your playlists. Your cursor lands on EXO and you snicker. “Not today fellas.” Your mind wanders to Chanyeol, whom the last time you saw held your hand against his warm skin delicately. That was over a week ago and he hasn’t reached out yet. You can only pray he wasn’t paying enough attention to your misstep in referring to Junmyeon’s stage name. Junmyeon didn’t say anything about it during the ride afterward, so perhaps you were in the clear.

“No matter,” you blink rapidly, pushing off the memory, “I just need to get this done.”

You continue scrolling, furrowing your brows as nothing jumps out at you. Sighing, you click on the classical playlist. Vivaldi’s string quartet floats around the closet-sized Airbnb. Another gasp escapes as you look at the time again – 22:32.

“If I could write a single sentence, that’d be so great, huh?” You push your face into your hands and lightly tap your temples. Stretching your arms out, you step away from the small desk and head to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room. You throw open the door before grabbing a small lemonade pouch, wishing for half a second that it was a Capri-Sun.

Popping off the twist-tab, you slowly drink the tangy juice as you hope the sour might shock your system. Near your computer, your phone vibrates.

Park Chanyeol / 22:36: Hey! Are you awake?

You squeeze the pouch, shooting the rest of the juice into your mouth.

“Can’t believe I’m getting a ‘you up?’ text from an idol,” you mutter. You toss the empty pouch into the trashcan by the desk and grab your phone, mulling over a response.

Y/n / 22:38: Hello! Yeah, just working on a chapter. What’s up?

You furrow your brow as you get an immediate response.

Park Chanyeol / 22:39: Do you have time for a break? I need to leave the studio for food

Park Chanyeol / 22:40: If you’d like to join me. I’m sorry we haven’t met up in a while

You glance at the incomplete document on your computer.

Y/n / 22:42: That sounds nice! I can meet you somewhere

Park Chanyeol / 22:43: No worries, I’m only a few blocks away

“Are you kidding me?” You bristle as you look down at your sweats and stained university shirt. “Goddamn it.” You drop your phone, rushing to your overflowing suitcase – still half packed from when you arrived a month ago. Shimmying into a pair of jeans and throwing on a sweater, you hurdle into the bathroom to fix your hair and brush your teeth. Your phone buzzes repeatedly on the desk and you fumble to swipe it.

“Hey, I’m outside.” Chanyeol’s deep voice somehow still surprises you after spending quite a bit of time with him in person.

“Okay, I’ll be down in just a second.” Ending the call, you grab your keys and slip on your shoes before barreling into the orange hallway. Deciding to forego the elevator, you jitter down the two flight of musty stairs. You reach the building’s front door and push out into the street.

Chanyeol sits on a concrete block, his face obscured by a mask, sunglasses, and a hat. He scrolls on his phone as you approach him.

“Is the night too bright that you need sunglasses?” You smile and tuck your keys into your pocket before pushing your hair behind your ear. He peers up at you.

“Didn’t feel like being hounded by Dispatch on the walk here.” He stands, brushing at his jeans. He puts his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and tilts his head. “Ready?”

“You walked here?” The two of you begin wandering away from your rented space, the faded streetlights illuminating each corner as you pass through them.

“It helps with creative blocks,” he muses and removes his glasses, placing them in his pocket. You meet his large eyes. “I needed it tonight.”

“Me too,” you sigh, looking up to the blossoming tree branches hovering above you.

“Having trouble writing about my life as me?” He chuckles. You don’t say anything, and his laughter tapers off.

“Are you feeling better?” Your fingers tense as you worry if you should mention it at all. The curiosity has been eating at you for the past week without hearing from him.

“Yeah,” his voice tapers off and you feel bad for asking. You try to think of something to say when he continues, “I know we haven’t met a lot, I’m sorry about that.” his voice drops lower.

“As long as you’re doing okay. I’ve been working through the material alright.” You furrow your brows, biting at the inside of your cheek.

“I saw your note,” he glances at you, “thank you for calling Junmyeon-hyung. He’s really a lifesaver.”

“He seems like a very reliable friend.”

“A guardian in every aspect.” Chanyeol watches your eyes widen a fraction, looking you over in interest as you nod and continue in silence. The pair of footfalls echo through the street as you pass tall townhouses. You follow the rock ledges separating the sidewalk from grassy patches.

“What are you in the mood for?” Chanyeol cuts through the silence. You had seen how his energy seemingly fit his entertainer role, but now he seems uncomfortable making noise.

“Dumplings.” You state after pondering it for a moment. You hadn’t really eaten much today, wallowing in your nerves about writing. He sends you a squint and laughs.

“Just that?”

“Maybe bubble tea.” You smile as he laughs harder.

“Dumplings and boba, huh.” He lightly claps your arm as his shoulders shake. “That’s really what you want?” You nod and he shakes his head.

He moves to cross the street and you find yourself on a small block with various restaurants. Passing the glowing windows, he gestures to a narrow shop.

As you step inside, the cool air brushes your cheeks and Chanyeol points to a table. You sit in a weathered, wooden chair while Chanyeol places an order at the counter. He returns after a moment with two mugs of water. He sits opposite to you and moves the mask below his chin to sip his water.

“It’s not that it’s hard to write about you,” you fold your hands together under the table as he sets down the cup. “I’m just not sure where to start.”

“Oh?”

“You haven’t told me a lot of stories.” You settle in the chair, beholding him in front of you.

“Ah.” He clears his throat and leans forward, inspecting the various rings on his fingers. “How is your family?”

The question interrupts your thought. Massaging your thumb into you palm, you watch his hands.

“They’re okay. Going about their business.” You quiet your voice.

“Have you been talking to them?” Chanyeol lifts his eyes and meets yours, resting his arms over one another.

“A little, the time difference is never the easiest to navigate,” you pause, “but yes, we’ve been talking.”

He hums, before asking, “what do they think about this?”

“I suppose they’re just happy I have a project.” You chuckle, recalling your mom popping a bottle of champagne when you told them about the opportunity. He smiles and taps his long fingers against the table.

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Why are you asking me all this?” Your cheeks warm as tension rolls through your abdomen. To your intrigue, he simply smirks.

“You haven’t told me any stories, yet I’ve asked you questions.”

Understanding rushes over your shoulders and you let out a laugh. “Fair point.”

His smile widens and he leans back. “Really though, tell me about them.” He looks you over.

“My sister is three and a half years older than me. When Fleetwood Mac came on in your car, it really made me miss her.” You smile. “She had an old ’92 Toyota truck when she first started driving that could play cassettes. The only one my parents still had was _Rumours_. It’s all she and I listened to for a good month before she got an adapter.”

“That’s a good album.” He muses. Chanyeol’s expression softens as you speak, telling him about little moments of your childhood. You keep the stories brief, overtly aware that you aren’t paid for him to question you.

An older man brings two bowls of pork dumplings and miso to your table. Thanking him, you two eat in silence as the shop buzzes with light conversation. Hungrier than you realized, you raise the bowl to your lips and pull the soup through your teeth, coating your tongue with the thin oil. Chanyeol observes this, smiling wildly.

“Dumplings really hit the spot?”

You set the bowl down and reach for your water. A blush settles on the back of your neck as you nod. He finishes moments after you, smacking his lips and pushing himself from the chair.

“Good, because we still have to procure boba before the all-nighter begins.” He spins the bowls between his hands, lifting the dishes to the counter. You slide off the chair, confusion wrinkling your nose. After pulling his mask up, he makes his way back to you before waving to the owner and moving you through the door.

“All-nighter?”

“We both have deadlines for tomorrow, and yours greatly depends on me – so yes,” he winks at you, “an all-nighter.”

“As much as I appreciate the time you give me, are you sure? It’s getting late,” you trail off, remembering his moans of pain and discomfort from only a week before.

“I promise we’ll be smart about it.” Chanyeol moves to hold your hand, pulling you faster. “We gotta hurry before it closes.” You begin a slight jog to keep up with his long strides. He tugs you through the busy sidewalk, dodging the late-night bodies sprinkled around in the summer air.

***

“Go ahead and set up however you like.” Chanyeol shuts his apartment door and locks the deadbolt. You move to set your bag on the closest bar stool, glancing around the neat room. He flips a series of light switches, springing the room to life with warm light.

“Do you not live with your members?”

“Haven’t for a few years.” He walks down the hallway, turning into his bedroom. “It mostly happened because Minseok bought his house, Junmyeon wanted to move in with Bora, Jongin and Sehun hated sharing two bathrooms between the nine of us.” His muffled voice carries to you as you pull your laptop and recorder from the bag.

“It’s not something we advertise though.” He reappears, having changed into a red t-shirt and black shorts.

“Why is that?”

“It’s just a part of the business. Fans expect us to dorm together, but we’re getting older.” He shrugs and moves to the couch. You set your computer on the coffee table, seating yourself on the plush carpet.

“What are you working on?” You gesture to the lack of items around him on the couch. He smirks and points to your laptop.

“Let’s get you a few stories.” He crosses his knees, propping his elbow on the arm rest. Connecting the recorder to your laptop, you turn it on through the screen and smile at him.

“Today is May 27 at 00:20 for some stories with Park Chanyeol, recording session five.” He holds his chin, watching you with a keen eye.

“I suppose I’m unclear on what this book is supposed to be,” you begin, adjusting your legs under you. “Do you want to include your childhood? Is it only about your career and journey?”

“What would you be interested in knowing?” He presses, “if you were a fan?”

Heat swells behind your cheeks as he holds your eye contact. You gently run your hand across your forearm, measuring your response carefully. “I’d want to know you as a person. As a friend.” Silence settles across the room in a thick cloud.

“So, in that vein, I’d want to know stories that make you, you. Whenever those took place.” You break the eye contact and look to the sliding door. The waning third quarter moon hangs low in the sky, just barely peeking at your position on the floor.

“When I was eight, we spent a week at my aunt’s cabin in the Sobaek Mountains.” He drops his hand from his face, pulling a thread of his shorts. “My cousin, Taejin, was fourteen at the time. He brought his acoustic guitar and would play “Come Together” by The Beatles.” Chanyeol smiles at the memory.

“I thought the guitar was the coolest thing, and I clung to Taejin’s side the whole trip, begging him to teach me how to play. I had just begun learning the piano, so we struck a deal.” He clears his throat. “If I still wanted to learn after I reached the intermediate level, he’d help me.”

Chanyeol meets your gaze again. “I learned the guitar a month and a half later.”

You chuckle, glancing at the soundwaves flittering across the laptop’s screen.

“Is that how you want to know me?” His eyes narrow for a second.

“Something like that.” You move your cursor to open the document as Chanyeol slides off the couch. He bumbles across the floor, leaning close to you and glancing at the screen. He looks at the paragraphs typed in Korean on an English writing program.

“Does that not confuse you?” He pokes the thin, rubber sleeve that details the Hangul keys over your keyboard. You shake your head and type a quick sentence while he watches. He turns and gazes at your soft features. You feel his breath fan across your arm as you type slower, unwilling to look him in the eye only a few inches away.

“Do you want another story?” His voice deepens as he speaks quietly. You finally shift your gaze to meet his as his lips touch yours.

Chanyeol’s hand connects with your jaw, gently pulling you closer to him. You tense under his hold, instantly placing your hand on his forearm. He pulls away as a soft pop disconnects the kiss. His eyes search yours for something you can’t discern.

Not wanting to find words, your fingers grip his forearm with only a fraction of pressure, but that signals the permission he was looking for. He crashes his mouth against yours, filling the kiss with more lust than before. Your fingers stroke his jaw, moving quickly to settle them at the base of his neck. He curls around you, pulling both of you to your knees, gripping your lower back. You feel his tongue trace a small line along your lower lip, and an inaudible moan escapes you.

Chanyeol deepens the kiss, holding you tight against him as his large hands sprinkle soft touches up and down your back, rolling shivers across your spine. You can taste the strawberry milk tea he ordered earlier.

You trail one hand under his arm, tugging on his shoulder to pull him closer to you. He moves away from your mouth, pressing his lips down your neck. Your breath hitches as he takes a small space of skin above your collarbone between his teeth. A soft whimper rumbles in his throat. Your abdomen jolts, propelling you to pepper a litany of kisses against his neck.

Summoning a modicum of sense, you suddenly pull away, leaving both of you breathless. He stares at you, rubbing small circles into your back. Still wrapped around each other, you move your thumb across his lip before giving him a final kiss.

He doesn’t attempt to stop you as you lean away from his grasp. You run a hand through your hair and stand, turning away from him. You cross your arms, tapping your fingers against your tingling lips. You look out the door to catch a glimpse of the moon while you try to calm your frantic heartbeat. You hear Chanyeol shuffle to stand as he walks over to you.

You don’t turn around as his arms slide around yours, as he buries his lips in your hair, as he exhales and holds onto you. You lift your right arm and capture his hand in yours, allowing the night to grow later as the two of you embrace, slowly swaying to unheard music in the drifting moonlight.


	6. Recording Session 6

Soohee’s contact flashes across your phone as you roll over in bed. Unable to focus, you clear your throat to feign awareness of the morning.

“Good morning Soohee.” You chirp as you rub your eyes.

“Good morning! I just wanted to let you know that you’ve been given an extension for sending in the materials for this week.”

Your eyes widen and you push yourself up on your elbow. “How did that happen?”

“Park Chanyeol emailed the managers, letting them know that due to his schedule, you had been unable to conduct interviews over the week. He mentioned that it would be unwise for you to send off pages without more information and the managers agreed. They look forward to what you produce for next week.”

You hum agreeable responses and quickly end the call. You flop against the mattress and rub your eyes. You stare at the ceiling, still feeling the ghost of Chanyeol’s lips on your skin.

You don’t know how long you stood by the door wrapped in his arms, but eventually, you peeled yourselves apart. He asked if you wanted to continue with the stories, but as the witching hour fell in full swing, you both needed rest after a long week. Packing up your things, he drove you home, gently holding your hand and singing along with the radio. He dropped you off, placing a chaste kiss on your fingers, and waited for you to enter the building before he drove off. It took hours before you relaxed enough to sleep.

Unlocking your phone to look through your notifications, you stretch between your clean sheets. Between a few messages from your parents and various dm’ed posts, you find a text from Chanyeol, sent an hour earlier.

Park Chanyeol / 08:47: Good morning! I took care of your deadline today. Didn’t feel right to have you scramble when it’s my fault you got off-track

Park Chanyeol / 08:51: In any case, I might have some time later this week but it doesn’t look too open – we have two back-to-back photoshoots :( I’ll send you an email with some more stories that you can play around with and ask me for more details if you need!

Park Chanyeol / 09:01: I’ll miss you. Text me if you need anything

You reread the messages, a grin spreading over your cheeks. Pushing yourself from your nest of blankets, you hobble to the bathroom to get yourself ready to work.

***

Over the next few days, you write for hours on end. True to his word, you receive emails from Chanyeol detailing different things that happened in his life. After working them into the manuscript and emailing Soohee, you take a break and text Bora.

Y/n / 16:09: Hey! Are you busy this afternoon?

Lee Bora / 16:12: Hey lovely! No, I have some time before dinner with Junmyeon. What are you thinking?

Y/n / 16:16: Wanna go shopping?

Lee Bora / 16:20: Already there ;)

Collecting your things, you head into town, passing the dumpling shop on your way. Blushes rush over you as you pass the window. Eager to spend time with Bora, you scurry away from the business and meet her by 16:48.

Her long hair falls down her back as she waves you over. Standing a few inches taller than you, she pulls you into a tight hug before linking your elbows and twisting you around.

“Any place in particular you want to go?” Bora muses as you walk in sync.

“I’ve been meaning to get a new bag to hold my gear,” you glance around to the large glass buildings around you, “it’s pretty old and not really cutting it anymore.”

She nods and continues pulling you, having a store in mind. “I suppose the travel and meeting with Chanyeol so often can wear things like that down.” She nearly squints at you. “How are the interviews going?”

“It’s good. I’ve been making decent progress on the manuscript, so I imagine it will be done soon.” You force a smile, refusing to acknowledge the weight dropping in your chest.

“Oh, let’s check in here!” Bora turns to the left and ushers you into a boutique. The marble floors shine under the harsh florescent light as you dive deeper through the store. She drops your arm and begins sifting through counters and walls, running her fingers over the delicate designs stitched on the bags. You follow, glancing at the prices with wide eyes, not allowing yourself to linger on any one option.

“Junmyeon told me what happened. How are you holding up?” Bora reappears next to you, offering a purse in her grasp. You swallow hard.

“I was just worried about him. It kind of sprang up out of nowhere.” You tap your fingertips against the counter. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if Junmyeon didn’t show up.” Bora watches you and clicks her tongue.

Not finding anything that suits your taste or your budget, the two of you head back on the street for the next place. After walking for two blocks, you enter another store and fall into the same routine. You graze through the cheaper items, settling for a clean black leather sling and you buy it. Bora decides on a mint colored clutch and swipes her card while you wander out the front door.

“Hey doll,” Bora floats over to you, “do you want to grab a bite with Junmyeon and I? Some of the members are joining us.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impos-”

“Not an imposition at all!” She puts her arm around your shoulder and leads you back the way you came. “They’ll be excited to see you again.” Bora hums, smirking at you.

She leads you to a restaurant deep in the city. Walking through the darkened doors, Bora quietly speaks with the hostess, motioning for you to follow as they walk to an elevator. The woman steps inside, signaling the top floor. She ushers you in, bowing as the doors close.

The short ride opens to a rooftop decorated with string lights and flowering garlands. Bora moves to the podium with ease, giving the man a small card. He smiles at you and takes you to a table in the far corner.

Junmyeon’s expression lights up as he stands to greet Bora with a quick kiss. You offer him a polite smile, looking to Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, and Sehun set around the table.

“Long time, no see.” Baekhyun tilts his head, moving the empty chair next to him out a bit. You move between him and Kyungsoo, who gives you a warm smile as you slide against the table.

“We were out shopping, and I thought she might like to join us tonight.” Bora interlocks her fingers with Junmyeon’s as a server comes and fills water glasses.

“Good thing too,” Baekhyun clears his throat, “some of us were far too drunk last time.”

Sehun looks up from his phone and pushes against Baekhyun’s arm, earning a chuckle from the older man.

“It sounds like you both need to stop bringing out soju after having a few beers.” Kyungsoo snickers to your left.

“It’s not my fault our maknae is so easily convinced to be drunk under the table.” Baekhyun releases a loud laugh, rocking in his seat. You watch him, finding his behavior to be more of what you anticipated. His previously harsher comments melting away from your memory as the sun dips lower in the sky. The conversation transforms as the server comes again to collect the large order.

“We’re waiting on one more, but please go ahead and bring the dishes out.” Junmyeon smiles to the man, resting his arm on the back of Bora’s chair.

“Who is still coming?” She holds her chin in her palm.

“Chanyeol. He needed to see the eagles before getting off for the night.” A sprinkle of nods dance around the table.

“Why do you all say, ‘the eagles’?” You fold your hands in your lap. “Who is that?”

“The managing team,” Kyungsoo says.

“At least above our direct manager.” Baekhyun finishes.

“Yeah, the ones calling the shots, making decisions.” Sehun reaches to sip his water. “Generally being a huge pain in the di-”

“They aren’t awful,” Junmyeon cuts the youngest off, raising his brow. “They’re just in charge and it can sometimes be difficult to work with.”

“So, when you say the eagles chose Chanyeol to have the book…” you trail off, noting the subtle shift in energy from the men around you.

“They decided a book written by him would be highly profitable.” Junmyeon continues, tapping his palm against Bora’s chair.

“Well, not really written by him.” Baekhyun smirks, turning toward you. “How is it going anyways?”

“Good. He’s given me a lot to work with. I imagine he’ll be satisfied with the final product.” You meet his gaze, slightly daring him to press further.

“Has he had you to listen to our songs?” Baekhyun leans forward. “To get a feel for what we do?”

“Not really, we haven’t dived too deep into his career.” You muse, forcing the memories of Chanyeol’s kisses from your mind while sitting shoulder to shoulder with men whose pictures are saved on your phone.

“Junmyeon-hyung!” A loud voice cuts across the rooftop as Chanyeol reaches the table with a few long strides. His eyes fall on you and he smiles. “You’re here?” Bora scoots her chair closer to Junmyeon as Chanyeol folds between her and Kyungsoo.

“Speak of the devil!” Baekhyun bounces in his seat. “We were just about to learn what hot gossip you’re revealing in your book.” He narrows his eyes at the man across the table. Chanyeol glances at you, a blush creeping around his ears.

“I have no gossip to give. You’d know it all anyways.” He shifts, pulling his hat from his head and readjusting his hair. 

“And that wouldn’t happen regardless,” you poke Baekhyun’s shoulder, “something about writer confidentiality.” You turn to Chanyeol, “though, I did get clarity on the feelings about the eagles.”

Chanyeol bites at his cheek and looks to Junmyeon, who gives a tight nod. Before anything else can be said, two servers set a full course of dishes in the center of the table. They bow, leaving a bottle of red wine that Kyungsoo grabs immediately.

He twists the top and pops the cork with ease. He pours himself a small glass, gesturing to you. You nod as plates get passed around. Kyungsoo lifts your glass to the lip of the bottle, smiling as he fills it. He passes the bottle to Chanyeol and it makes it way around the table until it’s emptied.

“Hey,” Sehun clears his throat between bites of rice cakes. “What will you do when the book is finished?”

“Well, the book won’t be printed for a year, but my contract is only covering my stay here until the manuscript is written.” You pause, feeling Chanyeol’s eyes on you. “Then I’ll head back home and work with the editors remotely. I won’t have a reason to stay here any longer.”

“Well, we’ll just have to get you back,” Baekhyun claps his palm on the table. “I’ll send you backstage passes for future concerts. See all of us in action.”

The conversation rolls into work discussions. Kyungsoo and Junmyeon bring up various military threads that go over your head. Before long, the food is devoured, and the sun has set low under the horizon. The wine settles comfortably in your muscles as the men check their watches.

“I have to head back. Got a long queue of meetings in the morning.” Kyungsoo runs his fingers through his short hair. He rubs his eyes under his glasses and gives you a smile.

“Hyung, can I catch a ride with you?” Sehun pushes his chair back, stretching as he stands. Kyungsoo nods and everyone begins collecting their things.

Baekhyun speaks quietly to Sehun as Bora passes around the table to hug you goodbye.

“Today was great! Let’s get together soon again, okay?” She gives you an extra squeeze before letting go. “Your bag is cute; I hope you get a lot use out of it.” She winks and slips under Junmyeon’s arm. Chanyeol wanders over to you, the string lights above you cast deep shadows on his dimples. The urge to press your lips to his cheeks overwhelms you.

“You spent the day with Bora?” You notice his arm twitch as though he wanted to put it around you. Your heart jumps up your throat as you realize why he wouldn’t.

“Only a few hours. I was able to send in the next additions to the manuscript, so I had some free time.” You gently push against his bicep. “How are you?”

He sighs dramatically before reaching down and grabbing your hand.

“I’ve been dragging myself through the mud – how will I ever know how to have fun again?” He thrusts his palm to forehead and gasps in anguish. “Working in a dark cave for years, I’m wasting away!” He pulls your hand to his chest as you laugh. “I think the only cure is boba and lots of it.” Chanyeol lowers his voice slightly and peers down at you. You watch the blush creep across his cheeks, knowing you mirror him in a much more visible way.

“Bubble tea? Fantastic idea!” Baekhyun slings and arm around Chanyeol’s shoulder as the group moves toward the exit, everyone moving to place masks over their faces before leaving the rooftop. “There’s a shop across the street.”

“That does sounds good, but I’ll catch up with you guys later.” You cross your arms and smile at the men.

“Yah, what do you mean?” Chanyeol shrugs Baekhyun’s arm off and everyone files into the elevator. You say nothing more and when you’re all standing in the lobby, you send the other members off with a wave. Kyungsoo and Sehun continue lower to the parking garage, while Junmyeon stops and faces you.

“Oh, before I forget,” he slips you a card, “the eagles want you to come to a charity event with us this weekend. Something about gaining an authentic perspective. That manager,” he gestures to your hand, “will email you the details of what they expect of you. See you guys tomorrow!” Slipping his hand into Bora’s, the two of them leave you alone with Baekhyun and Chanyeol.

“So, about the tea?” Baekhyun turns on his heel and heads into the street. Chanyeol leans closer to you.

“Please come.” He doesn’t touch you but god you wish he would. You give him a slow nod and he grins, tugging on your wrist before dropping it as Baekhyun looks at you.

“We both shouldn’t go in, so you can go get it hyung.” Chanyeol shifts his weight between his legs, pushing his hands into his pockets. Baekhyun glances between the two of you before shaking his head.

“Not this time. Your idea, you go get it.” He settles himself on a bench while people pass you by. He taps the space next to him and you hesitate to sit.

Chanyeol bristles for half a second before conceding into the shop. Baekhyun watches you and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“So, you really didn’t know the project was for EXO?”

“Why are you so curious about it?” You rub your neck, trying to maintain any eye contact he gives you.

“It’s just interesting that you’d come all the way here and be a part of this project. What if this was a shady deal?”

“Is that what you’re concerned about? Whether or not I would’ve fallen for a bad trap?” You raise an eyebrow as he drops his gaze to his shoes. Before he can respond, you continue. “I knew the contract was coming through SM, but they didn’t detail who the subject was – probably to avoid an avalanche of inexperienced applications from excited fans. It was only after the third round of interviews and in the job offer that I learned it was for Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun meets your eyes and hums, nodding slowly. Your heart races as you settle against the bench. Chanyeol quickly rushes back to you with a tray of drinks in his hands. He passes a brown sugar milk tea to Baekhyun, who eagerly stabs the straw through the plastic barrier. Brushing his fingers against yours, Chanyeol hands you a strawberry slush, matching his milk tea as desire lingers in his gaze.

You smile, feeling waves of tension roll through your stomach as the two men joke and push into each other gently.

***

“Did you bring your recorder?” Baekhyun rolls a tapioca ball between his teeth while moving closer to Chanyeol’s car in the parking garage.

“Not tonight, I didn’t think I’d run into you.” You gesture to Chanyeol with your cup and he feigns a wound to his abdomen, shutting his eyes tight.

“Surely you have an app or something though, right? I want to be a part of an interview.” Baekhyun grins and slurps the rest of his tea, finishing off the cup. You pull out your phone and open the voice recorder. The file would be difficult to transfer, but you don’t imagine this recording will really be of any use. You tap the screen.

“Today is June 2 at 21:20 for an impromptu interview with Park Chanyeol and Byun Baekhyun, recording session six.” You hold the phone to Baekhyun who simply looks at you.

“Shouldn’t you ask me a question?”

You scoff and move to turn off the recording but Baekhyun gasps.

“Okay, okay, sheesh.” He rolls his shoulders, “tough customer you’ve got here, Yeol.”

Chanyeol only smirks and retrieves his keys from his pocket.

“Okay, I do have a question for you, Mr. Byun,” you squint as he raises his eyebrows. “What is a side of Chanyeol that people rarely see?”

His eyes widen and the men share a look. He clicks his tongue. “I’m not sure. He’s pretty much an open book.”

That answer doesn’t satisfy you. “Well, then that is the end of the interview.”

“Well, he can get pretty moody.” Baekhyun brings his hand down on your wrist to stop you from ending the session. Chanyeol scoffs.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah sure, okay buddy.” Baekhyun removes his hand from yours as Chanyeol rolls his eyes.

“He’s moody?”

Chanyeol unlocks the car and you all file in. You move to the middle of the back seat, leaning forward to keep the phone near Baekhyun.

“Yeah, when he gets annoyed or upset, you don’t want to cross him.” He nudges Chanyeol’s bicep and receives a sharp glance. “It doesn’t happen often, but it’s pretty spooky when he’s mad.”

You look at Chanyeol as he turns over the ignition and quickly slides the car into gear. He doesn’t even pull out his phone to turn on music until the car is gliding through the city.

“What does he get mad about?” You press, watching Chanyeol’s fingers tap against the steering wheel at a faster tempo.

“Why does anybody?” He cuts in, jutting his chin out a little before sending a small glare to Baekhyun.

Baekhyun turns to look back at you, shrugging. “Honestly, I doubt you’ll have to find out.” His gaze drops to your phone and he smiles. “Thank you for indulging me. Maybe I should be next to write a book. It’s interesting.” He muses.

You slide back against the seat and turn off the recording. The car passes under streetlights and buildings roll by with ease. You recognize them as your building pops into view. Chanyeol meets your eyes through the rearview mirror and for the first time since you’ve met him, his expression is mixed with fragments of hurt and irritation – a combination that pierces you deeper than you imagine.


	7. Recording Session 7

“EXO will perform one eight-minute set. Your access card allows you to go backstage and be in the green rooms with Mr. Park. Your role is to gather notes but you are not to be in the way,” Son Jihoon, one of the overhead eagles, narrows his eyes as you scribble the instructions on your notepad, “you are to observe and be invisible.”

You slowly nod and clasp your notebook between your hands. He quickly pulls his finger up to the radio piece in his ear and scowls, listening to a problem develop amongst the staff.

“Go to the green room now.” He shuffles off behind a row of cameras, leaving you alone. Staff members of the arena and all various companies scramble in their orderly fashions. Pulling the hem of your staff shirt down, you hold your notebook and the flimsy, laminated paper allowing you entrance into the restricted areas. Moving quickly, you duck between black-clothed bodies and make your way to a long hallway.

You pull your recorder from your bag and turn it on.

“Today is June 4 at 19:15 for the Sobaek Federation Charity Event. Park Chanyeol will not be interviewed for recording session seven.” You lower your voice and hold the recorder closer to your mouth as you wander down the hallway, leaving the recorder on to capture whatever happens.

Passing doors, you read the names of all the groups performing to fund pediatric cancer research. You slow your pace, recognizing your other favorite groups just on the other side of the concrete wall. Shoving the thought away, you continue and finally find EXO’s small red sign taped to a door. You release a quick exhale and push the door open.

Inside, a sea of fabric and clouds of hairspray greet you. The nine men are spread around the room at various stations, each with an assistant floating close to them.

Kyungsoo fixes his bowtie in front of a mirror while Sehun buttons his shirt. Baekhyun and Junmyeon turning over cards and reading them quietly to each other. A man lightly dusts setting powder over Jongin’s cheeks while a woman mists Minseok’s bangs to the side. Jongdae settles into a blue couch while lacing his shoes and Yixing changes out of one shirt into another.

“If you’re coming in, then come in,” a man grumbles next to you, holding a box of shirts as he squeezes around a large table littered with makeup, bottles, and bags. You mumble an apology and slide into the room, shutting the door quickly. You scan the room and find Chanyeol leaning next to Jongdae, sitting on the arm of the couch.

He rests his head against the wall with little emotion on his face. Your stomach rolls at the sight and you make your way over to him. A woman twists and bumps into you, sending her tray of makeup brushes to the floor. The commotion leaves dozens of eyes on you.

“Gosh, I’m sorry,” you kneel and help scoop the tools back on the tray. The woman doesn’t say anything as she scurries away to touch up Kyungsoo and Sehun.

“Being invisible is going well,” Baekhyun mutters under his breath for only you to hear and smirks as you share a look. Junmyeon lightly smacks the younger’s chest and shakes his head.

“Guess I misunderstood my directions. Been roving around blind this whole time instead.” You move past the pair and meet Chanyeol’s gaze. His expression softens for an instant but settles under an indifferent mask. He hadn’t been messaging you as much over the past few days and you feel the weight of the silence now, standing next to him within the bustling of the room.

“Are you excited?” Jongdae quickly locks his phone and looks up at you as you move beside Chanyeol to lean against the wall yourself.

“This is definitely a different kind of experience.” You watch while the crew buzzes about the room, adjusting the nine men constantly. Jotting down a few notes, an elbow pokes your waist. Chanyeol crosses his arms over his emerald, crushed velvet suit, and clears his throat. Feeling out of place in your jeans and t-shirt, you pause and turn closer to him.

“I won’t really have time to answer any questions during this.” He motions to the room with his chin. His eyes fall to the recorder in your hand and lean in closer to inspect it. “You’re recording?”

“I’m fully aware of my position here, Mr. Park.” Your voice dips lower, hoping only he can hear you. He finally looks into your eyes. “You won’t even notice me.”

“But,” he offers you a slight smile, “I could be persuaded afterward.”

Heat spikes up the back of your neck while the same woman who bumped into you approaches with setting powder. Chanyeol sits forward, tilting his forehead to the woman. She swipes a brush across his cheeks and down his neck. For a second, envy rips through you as your fingertips react to the memory of touching him. Chanyeol opens his eyes and catches the reaction before squinting knowingly. She moves onto Jongdae, who follows the same unspoken instruction.

Soohee appears before you, holding a clipboard and listening closely to her radio piece. She offers you a quick smile before turning to Junmyeon.

“They’ve needed us to move your entrance from stage left to stage right.” She looks down at her board and motions to another assistant. You don’t catch the rest of the conversation as Chanyeol gently pushes into Jongdae and peers at his phone.

A man with a headset opens the door and announces the five-minute mark before the event begins. The room erupts in bodies rushing about. You stay pressed to the wall as the men huddle in a group and Junmyeon gives notes about the interviews they’ll be walking into. Immediately, you feel overwhelmed by how much they must do during this one evening.

The assistants comb over each man with nimble adjustments and EXO files out of the room. You tag alone in the back, frantically writing down as much as you can. You follow the line of people as the group heads across a carpet for photos and interviews. Just out of earshot, you watch Junmyeon and Baekhyun politely laugh with the interviewer while the rest of the men stand at attention.

They turn to move on, allowing for NCT to take their place. You scurry with the herd of staff as EXO moves to the lower sections of the arena to take their seats at a table. You spot Jihoon and wander closer, making your way to sit with the staff out of any camera’s shot. Slipping your thumb over the recorder, you turn it off and return it to your bag.

Resting on a chair, you subtly scrawl more notes of the way the venue makes you feel – a frenzied ball of nerves and excitement. _This isn’t about me,_ you remind yourself and change your note-taking tactics to forming questions for Chanyeol later.

The night passes with ease. Groups you don’t recognize start the charity performances, but soon Seventeen, Monsta X, Red Velvet, Twice, and NCT have performed. You watch Junmyeon quietly stand and herd the rest of the men behind the stage. After Mamamoo finishes their set, the MC returns to the stage and introduces EXO as the building erupts in cheers and flashing lightsticks.

You drop your pen against the notebook and watch the stage with complete attention. The set begins and you do all you can to not sing the words out along with the crowd. Your gaze floats over the men, watching them swing their arms and thrust their hips within the thumping vibrations. Their crushed velvet suits glitter with each movement and you know this is the exact kind of fancam you would save to your folder.

After three songs, the men bow under the boiling cheers in the arena. They offer smiles and waves to the fans seated higher than them as they leave the stage. The MC takes his singular spot, announcing the donations crossing another threshold. He introduces BTS as the final performers and the crowd roars louder.

Someone touches your arm and you jump, twisting to meet Soohee’s gaze. She quickly leans into you, whispering. “Chanyeol has insisted that you go meet him, right now.” She glances at Jihoon, whose back is turned away from you as he talks with another man. You nod, picking up your notebook and following her down the steps to the floor.

Staying close to the ground to avoid detection, you hobble behind Soohee as she leads you to EXO’s table. Kyungsoo meets your eyes first before sending a look to Chanyeol who watches the stage intently. Soohee stops and places her hand on your shoulder, nudging you forward. She turns back, leaving you alone on the floor with the group.

Lowering yourself even more, you nearly crawl on the concrete over to Chanyeol, who only notices you when you poke his knee. He looks surprised, as though he forgot you were here. He twists, looking back to where the eagles are perched before leaning down to you.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His breath brushes against your ear and your stomach flips. You furrow your brows in irritation.

“That’s why you called me down here?” You cover your mouth and his ear with your palm, isolating the sound and your reddening cheeks away from his onlooking members. “Chanyeol, I could get in trouble for disrupting you.” You pointedly avoid looking up into the crowds, knowing there are multiple phones aimed at the idol sitting in front of you.

“I called for you, it’s fine.” He tilts his head down even further, his nose grazing your ear. “I need to make sure you get a very specific note.” You lean away from him and squint, pulling your book and pen up above his thigh. Chanyeol smirks and motions you closer.

“Wait for me by the parking lot tonight. Don’t go with Soohee or any of the other eagles. Make up excuses if you must. Wait for me.” His final words sink further in your heart and you nod, keeping your best, undisturbed mask on your face while you scribble harsh lines in your book. He leans back, measuring your face before setting a finger down on the book and tilting it backward. He views the loopy black lines and smirks, nodding for you to leave.

You quickly bow and nearly sprint away back to the staff section. The crowd screams wildly as BTS reaches the climax of their last song. You almost don’t hear it as you rush back to your seat, Chanyeol’s demand running rampant through your mind.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us for a ride back to the office?” Soohee pauses with her hand on the van’s door handle. The others in the car talk amongst themselves as you shift between your feet.

“No, I’m actually staying closer to here and it’ll be easier for me to get home rather from SM.” You hope the lie sounds natural. “I met there earlier to make sure I had everything for tonight.” You smile, knowing you had no idea how far away you are or how you’ll get home. “Thank you though!”

She slowly nods and shuffles into the car as it gets ready to leave. The rest of the staff files into different vehicles, loading equipment and tools in each one. Desperately wanting to leave their gaze, you walk around the side of the building and lean against the wall.

The cool night air brushes against your arms. You release a loud sigh, sinking deeper against the wall. Pulling out your notebook, you run through the evening’s events from your notes. You tap the pages with your thumbs, sliding them across the dried ink. Your mind flutters to Chanyeol’s gaze as he made his request. You snap the book shut and drop it on the ground while pulling your phone from your black bag, determined to distract yourself as the seconds fall later into the night.

After fifteen minutes, your nerves begin to tilt overboard. You peek around the wall, hoping to see any of the members. You widen your eyes in shock as you see a few cars left at all. Snatching the book and thrusting it in your bag, you race out into the courtyard, scanning the area.

A few trucks are left as workers remove the remaining stage pieces from the arena. Anxiety floods you as you look at the time. 01:34. Stepping closer to the parking lot, you set yourself down on the curb, begging the tears to hold off from falling. You chew on your lips and push your face into your hands. Tears threaten to fall on your cheeks.

A hand grabs your right wrist and pulls you upright, dragging you along into the darkening lot, away from the distant workers thirty meters away. You gasp and blink away your unshed tears as the figure, dressed completely in black, pulls you along. You struggle to keep up, running your hand across your cheeks.

You reach a small row of cars in front of you – ones you recognize from the dinner at Minseok’s a few weeks ago. You see the hood of Chanyeol’s SUV and the man grips your hand tighter and walks you around to the driver’s side.

He stops, pushing you against the back door and enveloping you in his grasp. His arms tighten around you as he settles his face in the crook of your neck, exhaling deeply. Your arms fly up his spine, pulling him into you. Your breathing stutters and you shut your eyes, resting your forehead against his collarbone.

“I was worried you couldn’t come.” You whisper after a moment, clutching him tight to your body. Chanyeol inhales, his chest expanding in your grip, and lifts his head. He looks at you under tired, hooded eyes and kisses you. His kiss is rushed and urgent, sloppily smacking against you as he holds you tighter. You don’t question it and you find yourself not caring, just thrilled to have him in your arms again.

His hands fall to your waist, gripping you and rocking himself between your legs as his kisses grow more frantic. Heat coils in your abdomen and you break away from his mouth, sighing into the night as he moves down your neck.

“Chanyeol,” you breathe. He stops, his breath shaking against your sensitive skin.

“Get in.” He mutters, pushing himself off you and rubbing his eyes. You hurry around the car, thrusting the passenger door open and settling inside, dropping your bag in the backseat. He gets in beside you, throwing his door shut. He turns over the ignition while you look at the silver car to your right, wondering who it belongs to.

Chanyeol throws the car in gear and heads toward the exit. You watch him as he fights to go slower than he needs to. You catch a glimpse of a bulge in his pants and you quickly look away, flustered knowing your rising need matches his. A ringtone sails through the air and he reaches into his pocket, slinging his phone into his palm.

“Hey,” his voice is thick with something near annoyance, “yeah, I got it.” He hums and quickly turns on the a/c, an action you’re extremely thankful for. “I decided to head home early, I still have a lot to do.”

You can’t hear the other person as streetlights flash over your thighs through the windows. Chanyeol scoffs.

“Okay, I promise I won’t miss it next time.” He mutters a short goodbye and hangs up, dropping the phone on his thigh and turns on the radio. He glances over to you. You keep your eyes focused on your jeans, tracing small lines over the denim. He reaches over and laces his fingers with yours. He doesn’t look away from the road.

With little traffic, you reach the familiar parking garage under his building. He directs the car to his usual spot and turns off the engine. He doesn’t waste a second and throws his door open. You move to follow suit but by the time you turn to open your door, he’s at the back door, gripping your bag.

You slide out of the car and his hand finds yours, pulling you once again through the lot and up to the security guard. You hold your head down as Chanyeol flashes a card and the doors open. You filter in beside him and move to the closest elevator. His grip around your hand tightens.

The elevator arrives and you both shuffle in as he presses his floor. You watch him rub his eyes again, smearing the bit of leftover mascara onto his lid. You reach up, cradling his chin and running your thumb across his cheek.

His gaze fills with lust as he looks down at you. The elevator stops and he guides you through the door to the silent hallway. His pace quickens as he reaches his front door, fumbling in his pockets for his keys. He mutters a curse as he slides it into the lock and pulls you inside the dark space.

The door slams and hands immediately find your waist as lips flutter across your neck. He tosses your bag onto the counter. You stumble in the darkness, turning into him to feel his chest. His mouth crashes against yours as he rakes his hands down your back, fingers finding their way under the hem of your shirt.

“God, I want this thing off you,” he whispers, yanking off the SM staff shirt you were given. You kick off your sneakers before he takes you further into his living room. Without removing his lips from yours, he does the same.

“Do you know how badly I wanted to touch you tonight?” he moans. Chanyeol pushes you against the counter, pulling the shirt over your head. As soon as it clears your arms, his tilts his head and kisses your chest, leaving trails of stinging needles across your skin as his fingers push into your sides. “To kiss you again?”

You pull his head up, kissing him with force as your hands tug at his hoodie. You feel him smirk against your mouth as he wiggles out of the sea of black fabric.

“Having to hold myself back in front of the guys?” He suddenly drops himself into you, his bare chest pushing against you. “Watching Baekhyun move around you freely while I-” his voice falls as you roughly plant a kiss against his lips, swallowing his grievances. Your fingers fling his black beanie across the room, allowing you to roam through his slightly crunchy, hairspray coated hair.

“You got me,” you murmur. “You have me.”

He pushes himself away from you, twisting toward the hallway. As soon as his warmth leaves you, you lurch forward, reaching out to him. You grip his bicep and follow him, placing soft kisses between his shoulder blades.

He leads you to his bedroom and wraps his arm around your waist. Holding you up, he tumbles you onto the mattress and hovers above you. Your lips find each other, and he settles himself between your open legs.

You gently move him as you sit up, snaking your hands around your back and unclasping your bra. You toss it to the side and only hear his labored breathing. His hands leave your skin. You squint in the darkness.

“Chan-”

“Do you want this?” His breath fans across your nose. You move your hand and touch his cheek only centimeters away from yours. “Do you want me?”The question takes you back and you release a choked laugh.

“I want nothing more, Park Chanyeol.”

He places a gentle kiss on your nose before moving to your mouth. Chanyeol yips into a moan as your fingers dip under the hem of his jeans. You unbutton them and slide them down his thighs.

“Thank you for waiting for me.” He clamors out of his pants and unbuttons yours.

“Thank you for finding me.” You whisper against his hair as Chanyeol presses soft kisses across your chest and belly, beginning a night of deep touches and full moans in the thick darkness.

***

Chanyeol wakes up first, stretching under his billowing sheets. He yawns and rubs his hands across his face before peering at you. With your back to him, he watches your ribcage rise and fall between steady beats.

He rolls onto his side, resting his palm against your back. You stir but don’t open your eyes, sinking further into his touch. A soft smile spreads over his face as he leans to press kisses against your shoulders. He hangs his arm across your stomach and turns you over to face him.

Chanyeol’s gaze falls over your undisturbed features. He lifts a finger and runs it across your cheek, trailing the shadow of your nose. He gently removes his hand, soaking you in.

“Don’t stop,” you sigh, not opening your eyes, “please.”

His hand twitches at your sudden lucidity and he melts against you, pressing kisses all over your face. “Good morning.”

You snake your palm up his back as he moves over you, ghosting one of the many positions he frequented the night before. Chanyeol drops his body down, settling against you as he rests his head in your chest. His fingers tap the sides of your breasts while you trace lines on his shoulder blades.

“You never answered me,” he murmurs against your sternum. You hum and he lifts his gaze to yours. “Did you enjoy the performance?”

You smile and nod. “Although, definitely liked the afterparty better.” You tap his nose and move to hold his hand between your fingers. He grins and drops his head back against your stomach with a thud.

“I think there’s time for an encore.” He buries his laugh into you.

“I think there needs to be at least a shower. I could be convinced for breakfast too.” You close your eyes and stretch underneath him, wiggling restlessly.

“A shower sounds nice.” Chanyeol pushes himself away from you, exposing both your naked bodies to the apartment’s cool air. He rakes his eyes across your body. You do the same, counting the freckles dusted across his muscles. “Let’s hop to it then,” he taps your thigh as he moves off the bed. “We can go at least two more times before I have to slug off to work.”

“Quite the optimist.” You mutter and shuffle out of his bed, finding your way into his arms. He wraps himself around you and lays a kiss in your hair.

“Baby, you have no idea.” Chanyeol bends and quickly scoops you in his arms as he flings himself around, carrying you toward the bathroom.

Your combined giggles echo through the apartment before transforming into steamed moans – echoes that can be heard long after the shower is turned off and the apartment is empty.


	8. Recording Session 8

Swiping a tissue across your cheek, you loudly curse yourself for crying so much. Pressure builds up once again and you heave yourself against the white toilet, unleashing the forgotten contents of your stomach into the water. Smacking your hands against the floor, you sob louder as you wipe the saliva from your chin.

“God damn it,” you shut your eyes and push your palms against your lids, releasing a strangled “damn it all.”

Dropping the wadded tissue into the toilet, you pull yourself up to the counter and turn on the sink. Cupping the water in your hands, you take a long sip between your quivering breaths. You try to soothe the aches in your chest as you look yourself over in the mirror.

Your phone buzzes to your left as Chanyeol’s name flashes across the screen. You sip more water in the pale green bathroom as your eyes flutter over his last messages.

Park Chanyeol / 23:46: I’ve been in a mood – as Baekhyun so graciously described last week – and I miss you. Let’s get together soon for a movie night

Park Chanyeol / 23:50: We’ll have dinner and who knows, maybe the dessert will be extra sweet 😉

His words sent you spiraling into the bathroom, vomit climbing up your throat as tears gushed down your cheeks. Images of his gaze burning into you with wisps of betrayal and anger burrows in your mind. You try to override your imagination and focus on your breathing. Stifling another sob, you read the latest message.

Park Chanyeol / 00:04: I just really want to see you. Hoping you want the same

You shut your eyes and splash the cool water across your face. You press a towel against your forehead before picking up your phone.

Y/n / 00:06: I miss you too. A movie night sounds great

Park Chanyeol / 00:08: Come over tomorrow?

Y/n / 00:12: See you then 😊 good night

You shut your phone off and toss it on the counter, ignoring the clattering as you clean yourself up. The evidence of your overflowing anxiety is scattered across the bathroom, leaving you with sudden chores before you can drop yourself into bed and momentarily forget that you know Chanyeol the idol.

***

“No, stop!” you squeal, curling away from his hands poking your sides. His damp hair drips on you and you wiggle out of his grasp with no luck.

“Not until you say sorry,” he laughs and tugs at your hips, sliding you closer to him on the couch. His fingers roam up your ribs through your wet shirt, aiming for your neck. You gasp and grip his palms, twisting yourself until you’re sitting on his lap with his hands over his head.

“That’s what this is about?” You sigh, pulling at your entwined fingers. “You want an apology?”

Chanyeol simply nods as he tilts his head back and closes his eyes.

“I’m waiting.” He smirks, opening one eye to peek at you before quickly shutting it tight.

“I’m sorry,” you look down at his exposed neck and lean, giving him a soft kiss against one of his freckles. He tenses under you at the sudden touch. “For not kissing you in the rain.”

He leans into you, pushing his lips against you. “You’re forgiven.” He pulls you tighter against him, resting his cheek in the crook of your neck. Rain flecks against the glass door illuminate the room in a soft grey wash. A rumble of thunder echoes a few miles away. You press a kiss into his hair and stroke the back of his neck.

“Are you hungry?” You murmur, tracing his hairline. He nods, squeezing you for a moment before loosening his grip around your waist. Shuffling of the couch, you wander to the kitchen and open the fridge.

Aside from a few vegetables, juice containers, and a carton of eggs, you don’t see much of anything else.

“I thought you like to cook?” You lift a small bundle of scallions as Chanyeol groans off the couch.

“I do,” he pokes his head down next to yours, looking at the empty space in his fridge. “It’s the comeback. Don’t have a lot of time.” He moves away, opening a cupboard and pulling out two glasses. You tap your fingers against the handle.

“Then do you want to get takeout?”

Your question is met with a hum and you close the door, running your palms against your thighs. Chanyeol pours water into the glasses before sliding one to you. He smiles as he sips from the glass, leaning against the counter. His phone on the coffee table buzzes a few times before a comfortable silence settles over the room.

“Then, by all means, you can pi-” his jaunty ringtone flitters through your sentence as you watch him move to swipe up his phone.

“Hey,” Chanyeol smiles at you before turning around to face the overcast clouds. He hums a few times as he sips his water. “Wait, really?” He whips around, looking at you with his brow knotting. “Okay, but Y/n is here working.” He looks down and nods to no one. “See you soon.”

“Someone is coming over?” You roll the glass between your palms, leaning your elbows on the counter.

“Baekhyun,” he sighs, dragging his fingers across his neck, “at least he’s bringing food.” He shrugs, taking another swig from his glass. You rock back and forth between your legs, pushing yourself up from the counter.

“I suppose I should pull out my stuff then. Make it look like we have been working.” You set the glass in the sink and pull around the side of the counter, reaching for your bag. Chanyeol watches you and softly shakes his head.

“He isn’t going to find out,” he coos as he wanders over to you, touching your shoulder. “Not that he would care.” You gently shake off his hand.

“I know. I’m not worried about it.” You look up at him and glance over his features while he studies yours. He narrows his eyes.

“I’m just saying Baekhyun will be fine.”

You look away, trying to ignore the pangs of tension shooting through your chest. He sighs behind you.

“What movie do you want to watch?” You struggle to maintain a level voice and avoid looking at him while you pull out your notepad, recorder, and laptop. Chanyeol doesn’t speak.

Silence spreads out through the air and clings to your skin in a slick ooze. Heat races up your neck as you turn back to glance at him. He stares at you while crossing his arms, his brow knotted in confusion.

“What’s going on?”

The question hangs between you and you don’t know what to say. The desire to tell him the truth rips through your brain, but you only shake your head.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem different.” Chanyeol runs a hand through his hair as he falls into one of the barstools. He slowly swivels to a rhythm only he can hear, keeping one foot planted on the floor.

“I’m just a little tired. Food will be good.” You finish setting up the equipment and straighten your shirt as you stand straight. He watches you, uncertainty rushing over his face.

“You sure?”

You force a smile and walk over to him, settling yourself between his thighs. You rest a palm against his chest and meet his eyes. You swallow dryly as you commit yourself to lie to him.

“Of course, Chanyeol. Everything is fine.” You move to stroke his cheek with your thumb when you repeat yourself, “what movie do you want to watch?”

He glances at his watch as the rain falls harder against the glass, filling the room with dull thuds. “I might tell Baekhyun to come over later.” He looks back to you and smiles, “a nap before a movie sounds wonderful.”

“Don’t worry about that, he’s already on his way.” You shake your head and wrap your arms around his shoulders. His arms fold around you and you release a shaky breath you pray he doesn’t notice. “It’ll be fine.” You speak once again, letting the lie settle on your tongue.

“Do you want to record something before he comes, just so we aren’t lying? Would that make you feel better?” His deep voice rumbles into your chest and a weight sinks in you. You only nod, pulling away from and planting a quick kiss on his lips. You step away, swinging to the ground to grab the recorder as you turn it on.

“Today is June 7 at 17:25 for another story with Park Chanyeol, recording session eight.” You set the recorder on the table and sit on the couch, watching him watch you. “Tell me about a moment in your career that you think a lot about.”

Chanyeol gently pats his thighs and sighs, looking at the smooth ceiling. The rain falls harder, etching rivers in the clear door.

“When we had just debuted, we were working on a series of dance routines that didn’t make it into any choreography. I struggled with the moves and for some reason, I just couldn’t get it,” he pauses and stands from the stool to begin pacing. He folds his arms.

“I kept making the same mistake with one twist and the instructor stopped all of us to yell at me.” He stops pacing and looks at you. “He scolded me for a good ten minutes, asking if I were incompetent – if I really wanted to be an idol because it seemed like I didn’t care enough – before announcing the session was over and everyone had to leave. Everyone filtered out of the room and I was so embarrassed I couldn’t move. I dropped the ground and cried, feeling angry with myself. I didn’t know why I couldn’t do it and I just cried.”

He taps his fingers against his bicep. Chanyeol meets your gaze and you slowly nod, wringing your hands together. With a few paces, he slumps down next to you on the couch, running mindless circles against your back with his fingertips.

“Sehun came back into the room when he noticed I wasn’t with them and he sat with me. He told me I was good enough to be there with them. That I mattered. We cried together for about a half-hour. I’ve never forgotten that, and I think of it often.” Chanyeol leans forward and presses his lips against your shoulder.

“These things are real and they matter. We always matter.” He whispers against your body and you twist, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Guilt seeps through your veins as you hold onto him tighter if only to ignore the inevitable unutterable truth of who he has been to you but what he has become. He breathes you in and the seconds of silence in your recording grow into minutes with only the soft rain drumming in the background.


	9. Recording Session 9

“We should watch _Train to Busan_ ,” Baekhyun announces while he pulls a large carton of tteokbokki from a plastic bag. Chanyeol scoffs and retrieves plates from a cupboard.

“You’re not tired of that one yet?”

“It’s a thrilling story of survival and humanness and the zombies are overwhelmingly terrifying.” Baekhyun shrugs and pops the lids of the containers. “I like it and that should be enough.” Soft chuckles jump between the three of you while the food is distributed.

“What do you think?” Baekhyun nods to you, shoveling the rice cakes onto the plate.

“I’m good with whatever, although I cannot promise I’ll stay awake through the whole thing.” You punctuate the phrase with an exaggerated stretch and smile at the bewildered man.

“I can’t imagine that kind of life. Sleeping through movies,” he scowls and grabs the pack of soju from the last bag.

“Maybe she’s onto something,” Chanyeol passes you a bottle of the alcohol as he grabs his food. “A nap does sound far more enticing.” He flashes you a quick wink behind Baekhyun and your chest aches. The three of you move to the couch, but you float to the carpet, setting the plate on the coffee table near your laptop, recorder, and notes.

“You’re not sitting up here?” Baekhyun settles in the middle, sending you a measured look. You shake your head and twist off the bottle cap. He sets the rest of the bottles on the table.

Chanyeol turns on his TV and hands the remote to Baekhyun, who claps his hands together and quickly searches for the horror movie in a streaming app. You take a long swig of the soju, allowing the alcohol to flutter across your tongue. You meet Chanyeol’s gaze. He looks almost confused.

Setting down the remote, Baekhyun pulls the food closer to him and begins eating while the movie starts. He whispers to Chanyeol, who subsequently turns off the lights, leaving the room in a dim yellow glow.

The three of you eat in silence and you down the first bottle before the first zombie makes an appearance. You crack open another bottle, finishing half of it within fifteen minutes. Chanyeol offers a remark about the film’s realism that is met with a soft hit from Baekhyun who loudly curses his friend for talking.

Before long, the alcohol is gone, and the screen is decorated with corpses. Between gasps and gulping food, you stand.

The alcohol hits you faster than you anticipated, and you wobble as you slide next to Baekhyun on the sofa. He doesn’t look at you as a train car becomes splattered with blood and infested with infected bodies. You shut your eyes, not out of disgust but exhaustion.

You don’t notice Chanyeol whispering to Baekhyun, only hearing a shrill whine beside you. He leans forward and pauses the TV right as a screaming zombie fills the screen.

“Don’t start it without me.” Baekhyun shuffles off the couch, picking up the empty plates and dropping them on the counter. He turns down the hallway and into the bathroom. Once the door shuts, Chanyeol slides next to you.

“Are you okay?” he coos, his deep voice trembling against you. You smile and lean into him.

“You’re soft.” You drag a finger against his cheek and rest your palm on his chest. You feel him chuckle.

“You’re getting drunk.” He touches your forehead. “Why did you drink so quickly?” He whispers, feeling your blushes under his fingertips.

“Felt like it,” you breathe into him, pulling your hand up to his neck and tugging at him. “Kiss me, Chanyeol.” _Before we can’t anymore,_ you don’t say.

“What about Baekhyun?” His eyes widen and he pulls you closer.

“Please?” You feel tears bubbling under the surface of your skin. Chanyeol watches the wetness grow in your gaze and his presses a soft kiss to your lips. He guides your head to rest on his shoulder as he holds you.

Baekhyun opens the bathroom door and shuts off the light, turning to look at the two of you on the couch. You clamp your eyes shut, wanting to drown in Chanyeol’s grasp while you can.

“I knew it,” Baekhyun mutters, vaguely slurring his words as the onset of drunkenness creeps in his body. “Took you long enough.”

“Sit down and let’s keep watching.” You feel Chanyeol lightly drumming his fingers on your bicep and you curl deeper into him, wrapping your arm around his waist and burying your face in his hoodie.

“This is more entertaining than watching Gong Yoo run through hundreds of bloody bodies.” Baekhyun sways and plops on the floor by the coffee table. He smacks his hands against the glass and the sound pierces your ears. He grabs an empty bottle, rolling it between his palms. You turn further into Chanyeol’s chest. “How long?”

“Come on, Baek, please?” Chanyeol’s hand strokes your arm, holding you still.

“No, I wanna know.” Baekhyun leans forward. “I knew when you brought her to family dinner that you wanted to fuck her.”

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol warns – all faint indications of drinking vanishing from his voice.

“I could see by the way she looked at you, she wanted it. You did even then, didn’t you, Y/n?” He continues. You cover your face with your palm and gently shake your head. “You wanted to from that first meeting. Probably long before.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why haven’t you figured it out yet?” Baekhyun narrows his eyes at Chanyeol, scoffing loudly. “She is obviously a fan and this,” he gestures to Chanyeol’s arm around you, “won’t end well.”

“No,” you huff out and push yourself up away from Chanyeol. His grip loosens as you move further down the couch. “I can’t do this.” Chanyeol reaches out to you but you fall onto the floor.

“What’s your favorite song?” Baekhyun slides around the table and meets your blurry gaze. He crawls on all fours before dropping by your head. “What was your favorite haircut? Stage costume?”

“Baekhyun stop!” Chanyeol pushes himself to his feet and gathers his bearings for a moment before falling back to the couch. He blinks wildly, trying to force himself sober. He smacks his cheeks loudly.

“Yeol, you really shouldn’t get tied up in this. You remember what happened when Minseok dated that girl during our training days. When Jongin and Jennie broke up. Hell, when Jongdae announced his marriage and baby.” He pauses to look at you. “You gotta be smart with who you trust.”

“I’m sorry,” you cry. The knot in your stomach tightens to an impossible pressure as you push your nose into the carpet. “I didn’t know it’d be him.”

“So, you are one?”

“Fuck! Why do you care so much?” Chanyeol barks, smashing his fist against the armrest. Baekhyun looks up at him.

“I don’-”

“Bullshit! You’ve done nothing but bother her since you met.” Chanyeol spits and launches himself off the sofa, hobbling over to your shuddering figure on the floor. He touches your arm and you twist out of it. He frowns at you.

“Come on, don’t yell at me!” Baekhyun sits up, pointing at Chanyeol. “She’s the one lying to you!”

“I didn’t mean to,” you gasp between sobs, “Chanyeol, you have to believe me.”

“Call Jongin or Kyungsoo to come get you. You’re too drunk to drive but I want you out of here.” Chanyeol speaks evenly and looks to Baekhyun who blinks wildly. Your breathing stutters as you look away from the men.

“You don’t mean that,” Baekhyun says barely loud enough for you to hear. Chanyeol moves his arm around you, whispering condolences to stop your crying. He stands, pulling you to your feet and leading you past Baekhyun.

He turns down the hall and into his bedroom. You stay in the doorway, leaning against the grey frame as Chanyeol opens his closet and pulls out shorts and a t-shirt. He tosses them on the bed and looks to you with little emotion. Nodding to the clothes, he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.

Dropping your head in your hands, you muffle a mangled sob and slide against the wall. Forcing yourself to inhale, you push off the ground and stumble to the bed, shimmying out of your jeans and sweater and slipping into Chanyeol’s clothes.

His detergent instantly clings to you and your breath hitches in your throat. Hugging the shirt tight to your chest, you fling yourself on the bed, curling your knees up to your chest.

“Just get out!” Chanyeol yells through the wall. You jump as something falls to the ground. When a door slams, you stifle your crying. After a moment of silence, footsteps echo down the hall and the door opens.

Stepping into the room, Chanyeol sighs and moves to the edge of his bed. You sit up, swiping your fingers across your hot cheeks. You can’t find your voice or any words to accompany it.

He doesn’t speak, only gently moving you under the covers as he pulls the thick comforter up to your shoulders. His eyes are focused, mouth curled in a painted pout. You cannot imagine the words racing through his mind while he tucks you in.

“Chanyeol,” you move your hand from under the blanket and reach toward him. He visibly flinches and you halt. His eyes widen as he looks down on you.

“Get some rest,” he voice shakes, “for me, please.”

He leaves the room, turning the lights off and shutting the door once again. You hear him move into the depth of his apartment and you bury your face in his bedding, committing the softness and scent of his sheets to your memory.

***

You struggle to open your eyes through your hangover. Thrusting yourself up, you look at the empty bed. Between the thick pounding in your head and the burning in your throat, you swing your legs out from Chanyeol’s covers. You creep across the floor, crack open the door and slip through.

Thin light streams into the apartment and birds chirp softly outside. You move slowly through the hall.

Chanyeol is sprawled on the couch, curling away from you. One arm rests above his head while the other is draped across his naked stomach. His clothes are in a ball on the floor and a blanket is twisted around his legs.

The remnants of the night before are scattered around the large room. Dishes and takeout boxes cover the counter while your notes are strewn about the floor. You collect them, scooping them into a pile when you notice your recorder away from the table.

Still plugged into your laptop, the light flashes red and you release a soft groan. The ongoing recording splashes on the screen when you activate the mousepad.

Recording Time: 15 hours, 42 minutes, 23 seconds.

You shut off the device and scroll through the audio file, finding hours of buzzing silence. Before long, you find the last of the argument with Baekhyun. Checking the volume and making sure the headphones are clearly plugged in, you listen to the audio.

“You don’t mean that.” Baekhyun’s quiet voice rips through your headache. You skip forward ten seconds while you and Chanyeol left the room.

“Unbelievable.” He mutters and things shuffle in the recording.

“I texted Jongin. He’ll be downstairs in ten minutes. Go wait for him.”

You glance at Chanyeol’s sleeping figure while the recording continues.

“This is such bullshit and you know it, Yeol. You can’t be with her anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Chanyeol shifts in his sleep and you turn the volume lower.

“Of course it doesn’t. She’s contractually obligated to keep all of it a secret. Why not fuck around.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You knew she was a fan – you’re probably even her favorite.” Baekhyun spits. “You knew and you loved it.”

“Shut up.” Dishes clatter on the counter in the background.

“What was the end game anyway? She’ll leave soon enough.”

“Hyung, you’re drunk. Just go wait downstairs.” Chanyeol’s voice is spiked with the most irritation you’ve ever heard from him.

“Don’t worry about me, go and fuck your loneliness into some poor girl who won’t be here tomorrow.”

“Just get out!” He yells as something heavy falls to the ground. Baekhyun grunts and you realize Chanyeol pushed him.

“Baek, shit, I’m sorry, I-” His voice drops off as the door slams. “Goddamn it.” He mutters and the recording falls silent as he returns to you wrapped in his clothes and sheets.

You pause the audio and rest your forehead against your hands.

“How did this get so twisted?” You whisper and lightly smack your head.

“You’re up.” The sleepy voice pulls your gaze up as your eyes meet Chanyeol’s. He rubs his eyes and looks away from you.

You pull out one earbud and lean away from your laptop. He sits forward, groaning as his knees crack. His hair sticks up in various directions and he yawns into his arm.

“And not speaking.” He muses. Everything about his energy tells you he is less than amused, however.

“I’m not sure what to say.” You massage your palms under the table.

“That seems new.” He chuckles and presses his hands against his thighs. You nod and drop your gaze to the sharp contrast of your painted toes against the off-white carpet.

“Is that why you’ve been distant? Why you seemed sick?”

You nod.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You stretch out your legs and look at him. “I knew it would end.” His smile fades. “Did you really figure it out?”

“In the middle of that first interview, before we went to the family dinner.” He pauses and runs his fingers through his hair and sighs. “I’ve spent years watching fans look at me. You were hardly any different.”

“Yet you still invited me.”

“It was interesting how you tried to hide it.” Chanyeol shrugs. “I wondered how long it would be before you told me.”

“Jesus, okay,” you scoff and shake your head. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“How would I have been uncomfortable?” He furrows his brow and bites his lip.

“I don’t know, they brought in a stranger and you had to open up about things in your life and if you knew I was a fan then maybe you’d cancel the contract or not talk to me like how we did.” You rush.

“God, give me some credit,” his words grow sharper by the syllable through his scoff, edging closer to cutting you. “I’m not as naïve as you assume.”

“Even so, it’s embarrassing. I needed to maintain a professional boundary.” At this, Chanyeol lets out a belly laugh and points to his clothes covering your body.

“Maintaining professional boundaries? Honey, sorry to break it to you, but fucking your client isn’t exactly an activity to fall in that category.”

“Obviously.” Anger surges through your core as you clench your jaw. “But it changed. You aren’t the stage persona that I knew of before. I care for you as we’ve come to know each other.”

“You didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.” Chanyeol runs his palm across his jaw. “You didn’t trust me to make my own decision over what I wanted with you.”

“I know.” You quiet, resting your chin on your knee as you squeeze your shoulders.

“You’re writing a book for fans. You’re writing that persona.” His tone softens. “I wanted,” he stops and shifts on the couch, leaning forward. “Fuck, I don’t know what I wanted.” Guilt rushes behind your eyes and you hold yourself tighter.

“Why did we start anything, then?”

“I liked you,” he smirks, “it seemed like a fun idea at the time.” His words stab through your heart and you wrinkle your nose.

“And now?”

“And now,” Chanyeol’s face falls as he fiddles with the hem of his boxers, avoiding your gaze. “It’s over.”


	10. Recording Session 10

Buzzing conversation floats around the small café. You’re nestled at a table between groups of people while you type quickly. The whipped cream on your untouched matcha tea oozes over the lip of the cup, dripping onto the table. You hardly notice the mess.

Clacking against your laptop, your vision falls out of focus as you stare at the screen. You flip to the next page in your notebook, running your finger across the ink.

Patrons ebb and flow through the café, leaving while you stay stationary for hours – your tea now covered in melted cream. Stretching back, you grab your phone and swipe through social media notifications.

“Y/n?” a soft voice cuts through the faint music of the room as you look up.

“Oh, hi Kyungsoo,” you smile, sitting up and setting your phone down. He bows slightly, holding a cardboard tray of drinks. “Wanna sit?”

“I’m just doing a coffee run,” he glances at the stale tea on the table surrounded by your paperwork. “Do you have somewhere to be? Would you like to walk with me?”

“Sure.” You nod and collect your things back into your bag. Swiping the drink from your tiny hovel, you follow Kyungsoo and drop it in the trash. You adjust your heavy bag on your shoulder as you march up to his right.

“How are you?” He keeps looking ahead, dodging other pedestrians.

“I’m good! Just finishing up the manuscript for the final meeting this week.” You flex your jaw as you mention it. He doesn’t notice.

“Really? You’re already done?”

“I’ve been here for nearly a month and a half. It’s like I’ve just arrived and yet I’ve never been anywhere else.” You chuckle, looking up to the tops of the glass buildings before the two of you.

“Did you enjoy it?” Kyungsoo slows his pace and glances at you.

“It was a surreal experience that I’m thankful for.” You meet his gaze and force a thin smile.

“Hm,” he muses and motions for you to turn down a street with him. “Chanyeol speaks highly of you. I’m sure you will stay on the list for contractors.” Your stomach hops in your throat.

Having to spend every day immersed in Chanyeol’s world had drained you. Once he spoke that what little relationship you had was done, you pulled yourself together enough to hold back the tears while he led you down to the parking garage where he called a car to take you home. He pulled you in for the final hug and pressed a kiss in your hair. Nothing more was said as you settled in the backseat and drove away from him, leaving him standing on the curb alone.

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo peers at you through his round glasses and you shuffle on a smile.

“Sorry, just lost in thought for a second,” you wait a beat, “you know, I really enjoy ‘That’s okay’. It’s a beautiful song.”

He turns into a concrete building and you trail behind him in silence, descending into a parking garage. Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything as you find your way to a familiar silver car. He unlocks the doors and nods for you to get in. Following his unspoken instruction, you slide into the seat.

He hands you the tray of drinks and you mindlessly read the labels while he settles on the black leather next to you. Turning the ignition, the car buzzes to life and he backs out, heading for the street.

“I had a fun time doing that one,” Kyungsoo says.

“It always makes me smile when I hear it.” You watch him, seeing the memory of being with Chanyeol in that first drive to Minseok’s house. He grins.

“Thank you. I appreciate you telling me that.” He gives you a glance and moves to turn on the radio. Soft beats vibrate in the side speakers, wrapping the sound around the two of you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say that earlier,” you pick at the edge of one lid. “I didn’t know how you would feel, but I don’t want to leave without you knowing.”

“How could you?” He runs a finger against his cheek, keeping his eyes on the road. “You can’t guess how someone else is feeling or what they might do. Seems unfair.”

You swallow, struggling to soothe your drying throat as he continues.

“But I understand.” He switches lanes and takes a right turn. “Every day, we have to battle with being ourselves and being EXO. It’s perfectly normal that you had to do that as well. He’s aware of the difficulty.” The rows of buildings transition into trees before long and the road begins twisting closer to the coast.

“I’m afraid I didn’t manage this in a good way at all.”

“I thought you did extremely well, given the circumstances.” Kyungsoo shifts the car and the car shudders under the new gear. “Chanyeol is a complex man, but he is very perceptive. Even when Junmyeon told us that you had referred to him as Suho accidentally, Chanyeol thought it was endearing.”

“What? You all knew about that?” Your eyes widen as Kyungsoo offers a small smile.

“Yeah, he told us while Chanyeol was resting. Jongdae asked Chanyeol about it later and he said something to the effect of thinking you were cute.” You blush and sink into the seat, releasing a soft groan. Kyungsoo chuckles. “If you had told him up front, hardly anything would have been all that different.”

“What about you? Would things be different if I had told you?” You hold your attention on him as he takes you further away from Seoul. You recognize the thin highway as the direction to Minseok’s house, but you don’t mention it.

He shakes his head. “Do you feel different about someone when they tell you they like your writing? For me, I’ve done my job when people enjoy it. It feels good that I gave them some happiness.” He meets your eyes for a moment before looking back to the road. “Chanyeol just wanted to share that with you.”

“It’s funny, he mentioned when we first met that he didn’t want me to feel uncomfortable at any point.” You chuckle and rest your elbow against the window, covering your eyes with your palm. “Ah, this sucks.”

“You aren’t the first one who didn’t know how to walk this line and you won’t be the last. It’s just kind of the nature of the beast.”

Nothing more is said as the soft R&B sails through the car. Before long, Kyungsoo pulls into the driveway you hadn’t seen in a month.

“Why did you go to that café for coffee if you were coming all the way here?” You swing the door open, balancing the tray and your bag between your hands. Kyungsoo rushes around the front of the car to release you from the weight.

“Minseok is particular about some things and I was already in town.” He turns and walks up the concrete path to the white door. He knocks a distinct rhythm and after a moment, Minseok’s face lights up as he sees you.

“What a surprise! Get in here!” Minseok steps aside, allowing the two of you to enter. Once you pass through the door, he pulls you into a hug, squeezing his arms around you.

“A surprise for me too. I didn’t know I would be coming here.” You give him a small squeeze in return as he releases you. His hand captures yours and he clasps it.

“Oh please, you’re welcome any time.” Minseok winks, motioning toward the kitchen where Kyungsoo has already disappeared to.

“Hyung, where did they go?” Kyungsoo is unpacking the drinks when you turn the corner.

“The beach as usual. They should be coming back in shortly.” Minseok shrugs past Kyungsoo, opening the fridge and sifting through the organized contents. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I was working on the manuscript when Kyungsoo rescued me.” You smile at Kyungsoo who only smirks as a faint blush creeps around his nose. “Who is here?”

“Jongin and Baekhyun. We’re drafting the next album concept.” Minseok retrieves bottles of sauce and opaque containers from the fridge, setting them out on the counter near Kyungsoo. Your eyes widen.

“You’re in the middle of a comeback, though. You’re already working on the next one?” This earns soft chuckles from the men.

“Yeah, it really never stops.” Minseok grimaces as he shuts the door. “But this is only a drafting period. Nothing close to writing songs or learning choreography or photo shoots.”

“Chanyeol, Jongdae, Junmyeon, Yixing, and Sehun initially came up with this concept, so we get the next one.” Kyungsoo moves to separate the different items, displaying them in a specific layout.

“And your process begins with the beach and coffee?” You lean forward, tapping your fingertips on the granite countertop.

“Precisely,” Minseok says. “Is there a better way to start?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. After a second, music pours into the room from the installed ceiling speakers you hadn’t noticed before. The men immediately begin humming as they prepare dinner.

Minseok slips a glass of lemonade in front of you while Kyungsoo chops peppers and scallions. You sip the juice as the minute's tick later in the evening. Muffled voices to your right cut through the music as Baekhyun and Jongin slide the door open.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, of course, sea urchins have brains.”

“They don’t have eyes! Aren’t they like a plant?”

“Do you think they photosynthesize?”

“Are you two really going through this again?” Minseok rolls his eyes as he dices raw chicken.

“Don’t look at me, he’s the one who can’t figure out what an animal is.” Baekhyun claps Jongin on the back before meeting your eyes. He visibly stiffens.

“Hey! How are you doing?” Jongin greets you with a wide smile as he throws one arm around you. His damp hair drips onto your shirt when Minseok yells.

“Yah Jongin! How many times do I have to warn you about my floors?” He points upstairs and Jongin submits easily, winking at you while he slides out of the room.

Baekhyun stands near Kyungsoo, avoiding you. He purses his lips into a fine line and clenches his jaw. You watch him, trying to think of something to say. He pushes himself from the counter without a word and runs upstairs, drops of the sea sprinkling behind him. You finish the sip of lemonade in the cup and twist yourself off the bar stool.

“Please excuse me.”

Kyungsoo and Minseok share a look while you trek up the stairs and wander down the hallway. You reach the first door on the left and lightly knock, listening for any sounds on the other side. Pressing your ear closer, you knock again.

The next door, a few feet away, opens and Jongin appears, holding a towel to his hair. He gives you a knowing smirk.

“You’re so polite to closets.” He chuckles while straightening his blue shirt. You step back from the closet, flashing finger guns to the door when he continues, “Baekhyun is in the last room on the right.” He brushes past you, resting his hand on your shoulder for a second, and heads back downstairs. Gathering some semblance of strength, you exhale and go to the door, knocking three times.

“Yeah?” His faint voice calls out.

“Baekhyun, it’s me. Can we talk?” You wring your hands together and shift your weight between your feet. You don’t hear anything else but slow footsteps to the door. He opens it, one hand holding onto the towel draped around his neck.

He looks you up and down before nodding you to come inside. You step into the room as he softly shuts the door.

Minseok decorating a deep blue room with white and grey accents does not surprise you as you sit on the edge of the bed, looking at your hands. Baekhyun continues standing, his fingers twisting the towel’s hem.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “I shouldn’t have said all those things.”

“You were right to protect your friend.”

“My friend,” Baekhyun sighs and leans back against the wall, “is very dense sometimes. When he’s stuck up in the clouds about something, it can be nearly impossible to bring him down.” He lowers himself into a squat and looks up at you. “It’s one of the most admirable things about him.”

You smile and push your hands together between your knees.

“I only wanted to be respectful. I really didn’t know until the contract was signed that it was for him,” you swallow hard, “it’s hard to separate years of adoration when it’s suddenly looking you in the eye.”

“I was unfair to you. And to him. I’m sorry I was rude about it.” He clasps his hands under his jaw. “It wasn’t my business to get involved in.”

“Are you two okay?”

“Us? Yeah, had to nurse our bruised egos for a day or so,” he chuckles, popping his knuckles as he looks at the ground. “But yeah, we’re fine.”

“Baekhyun, I…” you pause and stand, walking in front of him. He looks up at you and you tug on his forearm. He clamors his way up to stand with you, confusion bleeding through his eyes. You don’t say anything as you hug him.

He tenses, arms hovering around your figure before he rests his palms on your back. You give him a squeeze and gently pat his shoulders.

“I hope you can forgive me,” he whispers. You pull apart and offer him a warm smile.

“I think you can make it up to me with ice cream.” This earns a giggle from the damp man.

“Just one ice cream? Really?”

“Who said anything about one? You’re now my resident ‘Ice Cream Retriever’ for the rest of my time in Korea.” You laugh and push a closed fist against his bicep. “I’ll make you a little hat.”

This sends a wave of laughter bubbling between the two of you while he pouts and pokes at your cheeks. He throws the towel on the dresser and leads you out into the hall, heading back to the kitchen.

“Glad to see you two are good again.” Minseok smiles when you reenter. “Nice work, Soo.”

“I know how to get things done.” He smirks as he tends to the pot on the stove. Jongin swivels on one of the bar stools.

“Thank god we can finally stop listening to you pout over the fight.” Jongin sighs and pats the seat next to him. You slide onto it.

“There was pouting?” You glance to Baekhyun who whines to no one.

“You have no idea,” Jongin leans into you, lowering his voice. “Jongdae couldn’t get him to shut up. Junmyeon stopped taking our calls about how to deal with him. Hell, even Chanye-”

“Do you want more lemonade?” Minseok cuts off the maknae, sending him a look. Jongin shifts in his seat and discreetly nods. You narrow your eyes and try to hold back a sigh.

“How is he?”

“He’s working,” Baekhyun responds, snacking on a carrot stick.

“He’s nearly done tinkering with the tracks,” Minseok adds.

“He’s asked about you.”

Everyone looks to Kyungsoo who still faces the wall. He rhythmically disturbs the stir-fry. Your eyes widen and an immediate blush flushes through your cheeks.

“What? Should we not tell her?” He doesn’t turn around.

“It’s not really our place. Baekhyun is one thing, but we can’t speak for him.” Minseok crosses his arms and moves to Kyungsoo’s side.

“I mean, if he wanted to talk to her, he would,” Baekhyun remarks, before sending you an apologetic glance.

“We don’t have to talk about him.” You say as three sets of eyes fall on you. “Besides, you all have work to do and I want to see what you’ve come up with so far.”

“Do you have a favorite album of ours?” Jongin reaches over to grab a carrot stick, popping it in his mouth.

“Of course,” you smile and relay a few of your favorite songs to them. The men chuckle and speak quiet memories of performing some of them.

“I didn’t peg you to like that one.” Baekhyun turns to you. “Chanyeol wasn’t really present for most of the song.”

“I don’t only like EXO because of Chanyeol,” you grin, “I simply like the music you make.”

Baekhyun shrugs while Minseok turns to the cupboard to grab plates. Kyungsoo brings the finished food to the middle of the island as the discussion transforms into the next album.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; pirates.”

“Jongin, we cannot entertain this again.”

“Come on, Soo, just hear me out! Think of the intricate choreographies we could do! Simulating waves and tides…” Jongin’s voice gets lost under the spread of laughter. You slap your knee repeatedly as he and Kyungsoo continue to talk circles around each other.

Warmth sinks deep in your chest as you glance around the laughing men. As you try to calm yourself by sipping water, your mind wanders to Chanyeol, wishing he were here, laughing along as well.

***

“For legal purposes, we will be recording this final meeting on June 8 at 14:00. Sung Soohee, please start it in a moment.” Son Jihoon flips through a series of documents in front of him as he speaks. Soohee meets your gaze and she smiles, nodding in your direction discreetly. Ten people sit around the long table, many of whom you’ve never spoken with. Light chatter sprinkles around the room and you sit in the middle of it quietly.

Chanyeol sits across from you to the left. He gently swivels back and forth, staring at the loose pages in front of him. You make an effort to not linger your gaze on him for too long, resting your hand on the papers.

“Does that make this session nine or ten?” Chanyeol softly speaks, not looking to you. You wonder if you misheard him.

“Session ten.” You respond as Jihoon clears his throat.

“Speaking on behalf of SM Entertainment, we have been thoroughly pleased with your performance in this project. This meeting is to establish the next steps in getting this book published by next spring.” Jihoon looks at you. “You have the completed manuscript?”

“Yes sir, it is ready to begin the first round of edits.” You maintain his gaze as he acknowledges Chanyeol.

“Have you read it?”

Chanyeol chews on the inside of his cheek as your eyes widen. You had once asked him if he wanted to read any of the chapters, but he dismissed it, instead deciding to roll on top of you and smothering you with kisses. Your cheeks burn at the memory as he speaks.

“Of course.” He folds his fingers over his chest, fidgeting with his button-down shirt. “It met all my expectations.” You watch him lie to everyone in the room flawlessly, without missing a beat.

“Good. Moving forward, we expect you to collaborate with the editors every two weeks to keep on track with our schedule. We are aware of the remote nature of this process and that is why you’re given two weeks instead of one. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

The conversation transforms into detailed schedules of book design deadlines, tour dates, marketing efforts, and soon enough, forty-five minutes pass with ease.

“And that leaves us with our final piece of business.” Jihoon scratches notes on one of his sheets. “Will you be willing to stay on as a possible contractor in the future?” The energy in the room shifts as attention turns to you. You smile and nod.

“Of course. It’s been my pleasure to work with SM Entertainment and Mr. Park.”

Chanyeol finally looks at you as Jihoon concludes the meeting. Soohee turns off the recording while everyone from the various departments begins to collect their things. She comes close to you.

“I’ll be going over your discharge paperwork and getting you set up to work on this project from home. Please come to my office and we’ll get you all fixed up to go!” She smiles and gently presses on your forearm. “It’s been a great honor to work with you.”

“Of course! I’ll be there soon, okay?” You nod and she turns away as people return to their offices and desks.

Chanyeol stands to shake Jihoon’s hand as the eagles file out, leaving only the two of you in the room. You pull the papers into your bag, unsure of what to say.

“I heard you were told all about Jongin’s pirate concept.” Chanyeol stuffs his hands in his pockets as he leans against the large window. He smiles when you look at him.

“He seems to have given it a lot of thought.” You chuckle, zipping your bag shut and resting your fingers against the leather. “It’s not a half-bad idea.”

“He’s been pushing us to consider it for years.” He smirks briefly before dropping his head. “When are you leaving?”

“Two days. It’ll be nice to be out of the shoebox I’ve been staying in.” You cross your arms and squeeze your biceps. “I miss my apartment.”

He simply nods, kicking his foot out and pulling it back in swift motions, still not looking at you.

“I’m sorry, Chanyeol.”

“Ah, you don’t have to apologize. It’s not,” he sighs, raising an eyebrow, “nothing was your fault.”

“No, I took away your ability to have your own reaction. That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.” You sling your bag over your shoulder. “I meant it. Working with you was a dream come true and I’ll always be grateful for it and you, partner.”

He stands straight, running a hand through his thick hair.

“Wait,” he moves to take a step but stops himself. “It was real to me.”

You surprise yourself when you don’t feel like crying, only smiling at the tall man across the room.

“Park Chanyeol, you continue to astonish me.” You give him a short bow. “I hope you enjoy your book.” You twist on your heel and exit the conference room, heading down the hall to Soohee’s office. Tightening the grip on your bag, your knees shake as you push yourself forward.

Chanyeol enters the hallway after you, pausing to watch you leave him for the last time.


	11. Epilogue: Recorded Voicemail 1

Chanyeol pauses his music as Sehun slides onto the couch next to him, holding a hardcover book. His eyes widen as Sehun passes it to him – a pastel yellow cover with a line drawing of guitar under a cherry blossom tree. _Before the Petals Fall_ etched above the illustration. He smiles as he holds it, squeezing it in his large hands.

“It was sent to us,” Sehun mumbles, raising his brow, “internationally.” He winks at his Hyung and bounces up from the couch, shoving his hands in the pockets of his joggers. He turns through the mirrored door, leaving Chanyeol alone in the practice hall while his members continue with their thirty-minute break.

Chanyeol flips the book over, reading the back copy. He opens the cover and a small, folded paper falls from the pages. He picks it up and unfolds it.

_Hi Chanyeol,_

_I know you’re going to receive a bunch of copies, but I wanted to personally thank you for working with me – I feel utterly blessed to have been chosen to help produce this project. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you. ~ Y/n_

_P.S. – Milk tea never sounds better than in the middle of the night, doesn’t it? I hope you get some soon._

Chanyeol traces the ink on the paper, marveling at your handwriting. He scoffs as he realizes it’s almost been a year since you’ve left. Disappointment with himself bubbles in his chest as he realizes he has been blissfully distracted from that fact until now.

He flips through to the first page of his memoir, settling against the couch to read it for the first time.

_On a warm morning when the sunlight filtered through leaves and left patches on the cabin’s floor, I watched Taejin strum his guitar. His fingers flicked against the weathered metal strings, his cracking voice – to the best of his ability – trying to parrot John Lennon._

_I left the untouched cup of orange juice Eomma set out for me on the counter and laid in one sunspot in front of him, mesmerized by the creation of music unfurling before me. My cousin held my attention and I knew I wanted to wield that power as well._

_His hands slid up and down the spotted neck where the polish rubbed away from use. Taejin plunged his fingertips harder against the coiled steel as he reached the finale of the song. He lifted his hands away from the instrument and I gasped with praise and applause._

_“Can you teach me how to do that?” I begged. He gave me a measured look as he smiled._

_"You’re learning the piano right?”_

_I nodded, holding onto his every word. He placed the guitar on the couch and patted his thighs. He got up and walked over to the window, watching the trees sway in the soul of the mountain._

_Taejin tapped a freshly calloused finger against the glass, pointing at a cherry blossom in the yard. The buds had just begun to jut out away from the bark, aching to drink the sunlight._

_“Tell you what, Chanyeol-ssi. If you advance to the next level before the petals fall, I’ll teach you everything I know about the guitar.”_

_I stared out the window, observing the buds creep closer to blooming and I felt my life’s path hinge on those flowers. Those flowers that whispered to me across the country while I studied the piano with a feverous determination. Those flowers that opened as I did while my fingers glided across the keys of my grandmother’s inherited piano in the living room. Those flowers that, on the day of the first abscission, dictated my first steps toward my destiny._

_Before the petals fell, I was only a boy with daydreams of being something more. After, I was becoming who I was always meant to be._

Chanyeol furrows his brow and sets the book down, closing the cover in his lap. His fingers trace over the embossed lines of the illustration. Junmyeon slides out of the practice room, sipping a bottle of water. His eyes fall to the book and he smiles.

“You got it! Have you read any of it? What do you think?” Junmyeon rests his knee on the armrest and hovers over Chanyeol, looking at the book design. Chanyeol doesn’t respond, simply staring at the floor. “Everything alright buddy?” Junmyeon touches his shoulder and gently shakes him.

“She wrote it,” Chanyeol mumbles.

“Yeah, that was the job.” Junmyeon narrows his eyes. Chanyeol meets his worried expression and shuffles out a smile. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pushing his knuckles into his eyes.

“She wrote it well.” Chanyeol’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, acknowledging the eagle’s contact.

“Hello?” He throws his head against the back of the couch, listening to the manager detail the book release for next week, and the first promotional meetups Chanyeol will have to go to in-between stage rehearsals and sound meetings. He hums periodically, still sliding his fingers over the cover of his book.

“Exciting news, though! The company has decided to move forward with the SHINee anniversary book.”

Chanyeol swings his body forward, staring with wide eyes at the ground. Junmyeon flinches away from him, pushing himself off the couch.

“She’s coming back?”

“Miss Y/n arrived just a few days ago to begin the project, and while your schedule is busy, we hope that you might make time to talk to the guys and walk them through the process since you now have the experience.”

Chanyeol agrees and after exchanging more details, he hangs up. He presses the corner of his phone against his lips.

“Hey guys, we’re starting up again soon,” Baekhyun calls into the room before stepping in.

“What’s going on?” Yixing asks, holding the door for the other men leaving the practice room.

Baekhyun’s gaze falls to Chanyeol’s hand. “The book!” The guys assume spots on the couches and chatter about the book and about you.

Kyungsoo sits next to Chanyeol and motions to hold the book. “Can I see it?” Chanyeol nods and hands it to him. Kyungsoo flips to the first page and reads it quickly. “Damn.” He says, raising his eyebrows.

“You start promotions next week right, Hyung?” Jongin runs his fingers through his hair while Sehun pats his member’s shoulder.

“Guys, she’s back,” Chanyeol mutters, finally looking his members in the eye. Minseok and Junmyeon look at each other while Jongin grins.

“Nice! I miss her.”

“Shit, I owe her so much ice cream,” Baekhyun pushes his face into his hands and lets out an exaggerated wail.

“Why?” Kyungsoo slides the book back into Chanyeol’s hands.

“She’s doing the anniversary book on SHINee. I’m supposed to walk them through the process and help them out if they need it.”

“Well, not the whole process,” Jongdae grins, “you went a little off course there.” Minseok smacks Jongdae’s arm as deep laughter rumbles about the room.

“Not all of it, no.” Chanyeol chuckles and rubs the back of his neck.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Sehun asks through the noise and everyone turns to Chanyeol. He sighs, holding up the book and looking at his name on the cover.

***

“One strawberry milk tea with pearls, please.” You pass your card to the staff member behind the counter as you place the order. She hands you the card and your ticket, motioning you to wait in a separate line.

After a few minutes, you walk out onto the street, sipping the tea in the soft spring air. Browned cherry blossom petals mash under your shoes as you carry yourself around the quiet district. Being back in Seoul, you relax under a shady tree near the boba shop. The same shop Chanyeol took you to last summer.

“I ought to call him, no?” You mutter, pulling out your phone to open the emailed schedule with each of SHINee’s members, both as a group and separately. Your eyes light up as you see a missed notification.

_Recorded Voicemail: Park Chanyeol (1)_

Your breath snags in your throat and you press the notification, bringing your phone to your ear.

“Hey, I heard you got back to Korea this week to work SHINee! That’s exciting… uh, anyway, I’ve been asked to come and help out so if you need me, just let me know. Well, I mean, I could come and see you. Also, thanks for the note and the copy you sent, I apprecia-”

“Yah Chanyeol! Stop being weird and just do it already!” Baekhyun’s voice cuts through the background of the call and you giggle as Chanyeol sighs, probably swatting at him.

“Okay, okay. Um, I was thinking about getting boba today. I’ll be at the shop at 4:30. You know the one. Hopefully, I’ll see you there,” he pauses, “talk to you later.”

The voicemail ends and you glance at the time. 16:48. You whip your head around the street, looking for any sign that he might still be around. Other than an older couple on a walk and a young woman jogging with a dog, you don’t see anyone. You sigh, leaning back on the bench while furrowing your brows. You pull the straw up out of the cup and chew on the end while you consider the options on what to do next.

A figure comes into your peripheral vision, a pair of white Adidas stopping at the corner of the bench. You look up the black joggers, the grey hoodie, and the white beanie before resting your eyes on his soft expression.

“Strawberry, huh.” His smooth voice sends spikes through your spine. He sips his matching tea as he beholds you.

“It’s the best.” You smile, already annoyed at the building pressure behind your sinuses. Chanyeol moves to sit beside you, sucking a pearl into his mouth and chewing on it. “When do you start promotions?”

“Next week.” He turns and places his arm on the back of the bench, not touching you but still drawing you closer. “I read the beginning of it. You did a wonderful job.”

You blush from the compliment, glancing away from him.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You sigh in agreement and look at your cup. “How did you know I was back?”

“The eagles. Told me to help out and assist the guys with this type of interview.” He grins and drums his fingertips against the wood. “I think I’ll leave some parts out though.” Chanyeol sips his tea and gives you a coy smirk.

“I’ll have you know, that wasn’t normal interview conduct,” you laugh, flushed under the spring sun.

“God, I missed seeing you smile,” he whispers, gently touching your cheek. You fold into it and hold his gaze.

“I’m kind of disappointed.” You lean away from him, looking at the jostling leaves above you.

“In what?” A frown positions itself across his cheeks and under his eyes as he gently rubs your shoulder.

“I missed the cherry blossom season.” You point to the petals. “I just spent nearly an entire year working with that imagery and I didn’t even get to see it.”

“Then you just have to wait until next spring to leave, don’t you?”

“Chanye-” He presses a soft kiss to your lips, swallowing his name on your tongue. His palm holds your jaw as you melt into him as though you were always meant to. He pulls away, dropping his fingers to hold your hand.

“Stay with me.” He murmurs, keeping his forehead against yours. “Stay with me when you’re here.”

“With you?” You furrow your brow. “Are you sure?”

“Let me love you every moment I can.” Chanyeol smiles and lifts your hand to his lips. “I can’t watch you leave again.”

You witness his eyes growing wet and the visual nearly sends you spiraling in a mess of tears yourself. You cradle his cheek and place gentle kisses around his face.

“You have me.” You echo against his mouth as you kiss him.

“Good, because we have a date tonight.” He squeezes your hand as he stands, motioning you to join him.

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows while he rolls his eyes.

“You are sorely mistaken if you think I’m the only one who missed you. Minseok and Kyungsoo left immediately to get groceries when they heard, Jongin and Sehun are wagering on who you’ll bet for in the next bracket. Bora and Junmyeon want us to join them for a weekend at Jeju Island.” He stops speaking, moving to hold you close.

“Hm, what to do first?” You muse, smirking at him. He grins and hugs you, draping his long arms around your waist.

“Right now, we gotta hurry to Minseok’s for dinner – the man is not patient at all.” He releases you and takes your hand, walking you back to his car around the corner.

“Well, unfortunately for him, I’m in no mood to rush through any of it.” You squeeze his palm.

“Fortunately for us, we have all the time in the world, and I have every intention of making use of each second.” Chanyeol unlocks the car and holds the door open for you. He swings around to the other side, sliding in quickly while scrolling through his music.

As you settle in the passenger seat, “Fly Away” plays through the speakers. Acknowledgment springs across your face as your mouth pops open.

“This is one of my favorites!” You lean to turn up the volume a fraction while he belly laughs.

“We could’ve been doing this the whole time but no, you had to be stubborn about it.” He grins and rests his palm on your knee while you both sing along with Gaeko’s affected voice. Chanyeol begins the drive to Minseok’s house, and you entwine your fingers with his. He rolls down the windows and the spring breeze stirs the melodies through your hair. You grin at him.

A man who enjoys cooking and going for drives – who loves to laugh and find humor in most situations. A man who cares deeply for those around him. A man whom you didn’t know but felt like you had known all your life. A man who you’ve come to understand and love for who he is.

As the coast comes into view, the stiff cherry blossom petals on the asphalt vibrate in the wind, drifting in the waves of sunlight. The fading music in the car passes over the petals as you and Chanyeol continue along to meet with your friends.

“Did you bring your recorder?” Chanyeol continues rubbing small circles against your thigh. You shake your head.

“I’m not meeting with the guys until later this week.”

“Are you also a fan of them?” He smirks, winking at you when you lightly smack his shoulder.

“I mean yes. Lee Taemin is actually what roped me in Kpop, so you can thank him for all this.” You giggle and he slides his hand over yours. “Why do you ask?”

“Just thinking about how everything can really be off the record now. Just us two.”

You grip his hand and grin as he meets your eyes.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
